Tweet Of Fate
by Raven-Haired-Artist
Summary: A friendship develops between John Cena and Sharlotte Taylor when she sends him a comforting tweet during a difficult time in his life. But someone doesn't approve of their friendship and tries to cause trouble for them, along with a lot of danger... (Better summary in 1st chapter)
1. Chapter 1

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers:** I own nothing or anyone associated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.  
**Summary: **

Little did Sharlotte Taylor know that her first little tweet to WWE wrestler, John Cena, would change her life forever. Hearing about his nearly final divorce, and seeing so many hate tweets to him regarding his "failed marriage", she wants to send him something light-hearted and positive, so she sends him an uplifting bible scripture. Finding the tweet refreshing, it sparks Cena's interest and leads to a flirty, but close online friendship between the two.

This, however, leads to each of them garnering some unwanted attention from an anonymous Tweeter. They become uneasy when the unstable person begins harassing them. The person's taunts unnerve Sharlotte and frustrate John. But it's probably just Cena's ex-wife or a jealous fan...right? What will happen when the stalker begins pitting Cena and Sharlotte against each other? And at what cost will they go to complete their mission?

_**Chapter One**_

Sharlotte Taylor stepped into the country-style house she shared with her older sister and nephew. Sighing with relief at coming in from the Florida heat, she hung her purse on a coat hook in the hallway, then walked through the large living room and entered the kitchen. She found Noah Taylor, her eleven-year-old nephew sitting at the large kitchen table, working on his homework.

"Hey, kiddo," she greeted him, ruffling his chestnut brown hair. "How was your day?"

"Okay," the young boy answered. "I just wasn't ready to go back after the Easter holiday."

"Oh, I know," Sharlotte agreed, sitting at the table beside him. "The library was chaotic today. So many people forgot to bring their books in before the holiday and so the computer kept prompting me to collect the late fees even though my boss said to let them slide due to the holiday. It made my day crazy." She stretched her arms above her head. "So, I was thinking…What would you rather have for supper? We can order pizza, or I can make my special fish sticks."

Noah thought for a moment. "You're tired. We could just order pizza, if you want."

"Oh, God bless you, child," Sharlotte smiled, reaching over and kissing the top of Noah's head. "Thank goodness you're such a mature and thoughtful kid."

The young boy smiled, revealing his missing front tooth, "Do you think we could have the fish sticks _tomorrow_ night though?"

She laughed, "Sure thing. I promise."

"Can we have sweet potato fries too?"

"Noah, would I dare offer you my fish sticks without sweet potato fries," she joked.

"And tartar sauce?"

"And tartar sauce. Now, why don't you take your homework up to your room and I'll call you down when the pizza gets here."

"Okay," Noah said, grabbing up his school materials. "Remember, me and mom like pepperoni and extra cheese." With that, the boy exited the room, and Sharlotte grabbed the cordless phone out of its cradle. Dialing the privately owned Italian restaurant a few blocks away, she quickly ordered a medium pizza with pepperoni and extra cheese, as well as a personal-sized one with mushrooms, tomatoes and arugula.

She was generally a healthier eater than her sister and nephew, so when she splurged she would still find tasty, yet healthier options. She had grown up with healthy eating being drummed into her due to her dreams of becoming a figure skater. The dreams began when her parents discovered how easily their little girl took to the ice at only three years old. From there, they'd pushed her into the profession, in hopes of becoming rich to fulfill their fantasies of luxurious possessions and endless money to support their excessive drinking habits.

For years Sharlotte trained but never felt pressured to do so, though only because she enjoyed the training. If she had balked at the long practices, she would have found out quickly that she had no choice in the matter.

She entered every contest she could and won many of them. Her bedroom walls were lined with shelves which held numerous trophies, plaques, and medals. Finally, in 1998, she was fifteen and more than ready for the Winter Olympics. She came in second in the United States Championship, only a couple of points behind Tara Lipinski.

She went on to the Olympics in Japan but unfortunately for Sharlotte, during a practice for her long program, the shoelace on one of her skates snapped free in the middle of a triple lutz, triple toe loop combination. The ending result was a terrifying fall to the ice which left her with a severely broken ankle, and a concussion that kept her unconscious for a couple of days. When she awoke she received more horrible news than she could bear.

She would never skate competitively again. Nor would she ever perform the leaps and jumps she so loved to do. She was then informed by some officers that her parents had cleaned out the large chunk of savings she'd accumulated and fled with the money. Sharlotte had always suspected her parents loved her talent rather than her, but it hurt worse to discover they'd totally abandoned her. She hardly had time to wonder what would happen to her, when the cops then explained that her parents were killed in a plane crash; an ironic twist of fate. Despite her parents' coldness, she grieved over their deaths. And she grieved over the loss of her dreams; a career cut way too short.

Her twenty-year-old sister, Julie, arrived at the hospital a couple hours after she was notified of her sister's accident. This unfortunately didn't occur till after Sharlotte awoke, since the parents had put themselves down as their daughter's emergency contacts. Now, being deceased, the next of kin fell to Julie. But her name did not appear on any of the emergency information in Sharlotte's records. So they had to rely on the young girl to tell them who to contact.

"Oh, my God, Sharlotte," Julie had cried, seeing her baby sister in such horrible condition. Her leg was casted, she had a bloody bandage on her head, and her face was puffy from all the tears she had shed. "Baby, I'm so sorry I didn't get here till now. They told me Mom and Dad hadn't listed me as an emergency contact," she said bitterly. "Not that I'm surprised. I-"

"Mom and D-dad…they're dead…" Sharlotte cut in, breaking down into sobs all over again.

"What," Julie demanded.

"They died. They found out I'd never skate competitively again. They took my savings and ran with the money. Their plane crashed."

Julie couldn't bring herself to feel grief. She'd been on her own for four years, living in her own house, while their parents doted on her younger sister.

_They only cared about Sharlotte_, she reasoned with herself. _Or rather, they loved what money she could make for them_. "Good," she finally said in a low voice. "They deserved it." She was still unable to forgive them for keeping Sharlotte from visiting her, or from her visiting Sharlotte. She had been disowned for trying to live her own life.

Sharlotte realized Julie hated their parents, and in a way, she could understand the older girl's anger. But she still hated for anyone to die. She wouldn't have wished such a terrifying death on her worst enemy. "Julie, please," she cried. "I know you hate them. And you have every right. But still… They were all I knew."

Julie instantly felt badly, and gently pulled her sister into a hug, stroking her long blond locks. "I'm sorry, sweet girl," she whispered. "I know this is so scary for you."

"What will happen to me, Julie?"

Julie pulled back and looked her in the eye. "You're going to live with me. Finish high school. Go to college. And have a career like everyone else."

"But my skating…"

"I know," Julie whispered, pulling Sharlotte into another hug. "I know this will be so difficult for you. But you're a strong girl, and you'll get through it. I'll be there to help you in any way I can."

"I love you, Julie," Sharlotte sobbed softly, hugging her sister tight.

"I love you too, sweet sister. And I've missed you so, so much."

There was a knock at the front door then, jarring Sharlotte back to the present. She shifted her gray eyes to the clock on the wall and realized she had reminisced for the past half hour. _Lord what a nightmare_, she thought back on her younger days as she headed for the front door.

Minutes later, the pizzas were on the kitchen table, and she tiredly headed upstairs to change out of her dressy work clothes, and to tell Noah that dinner had arrived.

"Noah," she knocked on the boy's door and opened it quietly so as not to disturb Julie while she slept just across the hall. "Noah? Supper is here."

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute," he said, closing his math book.

"Would you mind putting down some plates and glasses? I'll get us something to drink when I get back down stairs."

"Sure, Aunt Sharlotte," he said.

"Thanks, kiddo."

She turned and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Opening one of her dresser drawers, she pulled out a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a pastel green tank top. She changed into them quickly and then pinned her hair up in a messy top knot. Then she headed back downstairs feeling much more relaxed.

She entered the kitchen and was surprised to discover Noah had not only set the table with plates, and glasses, but he'd also poured himself some milk, and some Cherry Coke Zero for her.

"Thanks, Noah," she smiled as she washed her hands, and then sat down at the table to serve their plates.

"Remember, to leave enough for your mom," Sharlotte warned. "I imagine she'll be hungry before she leaves for work."

Noah nodded, and after Sharlotte asked a blessing over their meal, he took a small bite of his pizza, seemingly deep in thought. "Aunt Sharlotte," he finally spoke. "Why does Mom always have to work overnight?"

She swallowed her own bite of pizza and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Well, Noah, that's just part of her job. Nurses don't have the easiest time in the world. Their work is hard, and not always fair. They work in shifts, and they don't always get to pick the shifts they're hired for. Your mom works very hard to make sure you have everything you need. Try not to mention this to her, okay? It might make her feel guilty. If you need to talk, why don't you come to me? I'm a good listener."

Noah nodded. "Okay. I don't mean to complain. I just miss her. It feels like I never see her."

"I know. I feel the same way sometimes. But Julie's just doing what she knows she has to do." Sharlotte paused a moment, as if something just occurred to her. "It's not too much longer till summer break. I'll have a talk with your mom and see about letting you stay up later so you can see her for a little while at night before she leaves for work. How's that sound?"

Noah's brown eyes lit up, "Thanks, Aunt Sharlotte." He stood and gave her a hug. "You think she'll let me?"

She kissed his cheek, "I'm going to try my hardest to get her to, kiddo. Love you."

"Love you too."

"Okay, now get back to eating your supper," she chuckled. "It's going to get cold. Plus, RAW comes on in a little while. We've got a date, right? "

"Woo, woo, woo…You know it!"

Sharlotte busted out laughing and joined in when Noah began fist pumping.

A moment later, the two settled back to eating their dinner, and talking about how good RAW was going to be that night.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Thirty-five-year-old Julie Taylor sleepily went down the stairs and headed into the kitchen to eat her late supper before getting dressed and heading to the hospital for her overnight shift.

She found Sharlotte sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on a can of regular Coca Cola while flipping through a magazine. "Hey, sis," Julie greeted. "Rough day at work?" She knew due to their alcoholic parents that Sharlotte didn't drink alcohol. She normally drank diet sodas, but reserved herself one can of a regular drink per week as a "comfort" food instead of resorting to alcohol.

Sharlotte tipped her can of soda up in salute, "You guessed correctly. This was a day I could have done without. Thank goodness for cold Cokes and wrestling on Monday nights. Oh, your supper is in the oven. Pepperoni pizza. I had it heating up for you."

"Thanks," Julie said, heading to the stove. "Pizza sounds wonderful." She pulled the pizza box out of the oven and sat it on the table. Grabbing a plate and glass she sat down and poured a glass of water. "So did you and Noah enjoy wrestling tonight," she asked stiffly. She was by no means a wrestling fan.

"Yes, as always," Sharlotte smiled. "Although he did crash about thirty minutes before it was over. I had to take him upstairs to bed. Anyway, since Sunday is Wrestlemania, I figured I'd order the pay-per-view and surprise Noah with it. He never gets to see the pay-per-views except for on his computer."

Julie nodded and bit into a slice of her pizza. "He'll love that, I'm sure."

Sharlotte's face took on a serious expression, "I kind of need to talk to you about Noah, Jules."

Julie swallowed another bite of her pizza, "Okay. Is everything alright," she asked, concern crossing her features.

"Well, he's missing you," Sharlotte replied bluntly. "He feels like he never sees you. He loves you very much, and he's feeling abandoned I think."

The older sister sighed and set her slice of pizza back on her plate. "I know. I feel the same way. I'd been hoping _he_ wasn't. He's already gone off to school by the time I get home, and I'm in bed by the time _he_ gets home, and then _he's_ in bed when I get up to leave for work. I'm rarely off on weekends, and when I am, he's usually got plans with friends." She sighed again. "I swear…if I had known what kind of hectic life nursing would be, I'd have chosen a different profession."

"I'm sorry, Julie," Sharlotte said, reaching over and taking her sister's hand. "I didn't mean to make you feel badly."

"No it's fine," Julie said. "You're right to tell me about it. It's not good for Noah to not be around me much."

"Well, how about when summer gets here and he's out of school letting him stay up till you leave for work? He could at least have a couple hours with you each night."

"That's true," Julie thought out loud, brushing her brown hair over her shoulder. "And a good idea," she nodded. "Yeah, I'll let him know as soon as I can. Hopefully, this weekend, if he doesn't have any plans."

"I can tell him if you aren't able to."

Julie nodded, "Yes, but I hope _I_ can. You telling him probably wouldn't inspire much faith in me."

"Well, I'll leave it up to you then, and if you decide you need me to do it, just let me know." Sharlotte smiled softly, and finished off her soda. "Well, I think I'm going to bed early tonight. I need some sleep. Goodnight, Jules."

"Goodnight. Love you."

"Love you too."

Sharlotte headed upstairs to her room then, while Julie finished eating. Shutting her bedroom door behind her, she approached her desk and booted up her computer, then entered her bathroom to brush her teeth. Minutes later she stripped out of her clothes and pulled on her pale-peach silk nightgown, and relished in the feel of the light material against her skin. After she folded the covers back on her large bed, she sat down at her computer and checked her email, as well as her Facebook and Twitter.

Laughing at a few pictures her online friends had posted on Facebook, she clicked the "Like" button below them. Then she posted a quick status update about her busy day and moved on to Twitter. Scanning down through her timeline, which consisted of quite a few friends and many wrestlers, she saw a couple of tweeted photos Stone Cold Steve Austin had posted showing some rattle snakes he'd found and killed on his ranch. She shuddered, quickly closing off the photos and moved on. She read several of her friends' posts about how their day went at college or work, and she saw a picture one friend posted from their trip to Universal Studios.

Chuckling, she clicked on the "Reply" link and typed into the text-box, "_Ride the JAWS ride once for me_! #Jealous" and clicked the "Tweet" button. She eyed the Universal Studios photo a moment longer and sighed wistfully. It had been ages since she and Julie and Noah had gotten to do anything even as small as driving into Orlando and going to an amusement park. Instead they were stuck each day doing the same thing, over and over.

It wasn't as if she loathed where they lived. She loved the large country home with its huge, old-fashioned doors and the beautiful bay window in her bedroom. She just wasn't happy with her life in general. The only time she felt remotely happy was when she came home to her sister and nephew, and she could shut the door on the outside world. She knew she must be going through a depression to accept the way her life was, without the slightest fight.

"What's happened to me," she asked herself. "I never used to be this way. I was…I was _tough_. I _never_ gave up on what I wanted."

Growing sleepy, Sharlotte scanned over a few more posts on her timeline and spotted a tweet from WWE wrestler, John Cena, which caught her attention.

"_Hope you all had a great Easter holiday. Be sure & tune in this Sunday to see me beat the Rock. Unless he decides to bring it _#_ViaSatellite #KungPaoChicken_"

Sharlotte chuckled at the Kung Pao chicken remark that had backfired on the Rock. "Leave it to Cena to take an intended insult and turn it into a compliment." She was tempted to reply to him and wish him good luck on his match, but she didn't figure he would see the tweet anyway. _And even if he did_, she thought, _he probably wouldn't answer_. _He probably has already gotten a ton of tweets wishing him luck_. _He probably gets millions of tweets each day, period_.

Sharlotte's addiction to wrestling spanned over the past decade. She couldn't put her finger on what got her hooked on it. She had gone through a depression after her career-ending injury and had wanted nothing to do with any sports or athletics for a long time. But one day—years later—she came across a WWE match between Triple H and Randy Orton on television and began watching regularly from then on. She admired the athleticism, the grace and strength of the wrestlers. She could only imagine the adrenaline flow they must get. She envied the athletes and sometimes watching them doing what they obviously loved, hurt her, but not enough to make her stop watching the programming.

Noah had even started watching wrestling with her since he was a tiny boy, inhaling everything to do with the WWE. One day he came home from school and informed Sharlotte of how his friends were talking about a smaller wrestling company known as TNA. He found out the time and channel it came on and asked her if they could check it out. They were then hooked on the newer company as well.

Noah swore he was going to become a professional wrestler when he was old enough. She felt badly for the boy. He wanted it so badly, and his mother was not thrilled with the idea. Sharlotte wanted to support him in it, but she was afraid of him being hurt by an injury like she had endured, as well as being devastated by the loss of a dream. Both trials were painful ones and she did not want to see her nephew go through that. But instead of coming out and discouraging him, she opted to not say much on the subject. _Chances are he'll mature and decide on a different career anyway_, she reasoned as she shut down her computer. Then she climbed between the soothing covers of her bed.

She was asleep in only minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers: **I own nothing or anyone associated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: **Some of you may not like Cena in this chapter, lol. And I'm sorry for that, but it was just how I felt this chapter should go. Just remember, it's only fiction. :-)**  
**

_**Chapter Two**_

John Cena stalked from his dressing room and charged down the hallway to the men's locker room. He threw the door open and rushed inside. At finding Sheamus, Chris Jericho and Santino Marella in the large room, he growled in frustration.

"Where is Orton," he demanded.

"Did you check his dressing room," Sheamus asked, confusion crossing his features. The large Irishman had never seen such anger on John Cena's face before. He also had never heard John refer to his close friend by his last name, either. He would have understood Cena being angry at _Dwayne_ after his "rock" concert, but he could not figure out why he was angry at Randy.

"I just came from his dressing room," John replied.

"Well, he just left here and said he was heading to his dressing room to pack up his stuff," Chris informed him gently. "Try checking again. He's probably there by now. He may have just stopped by catering to grab something."

"Thanks," John said absent-mindedly and turned on his heel, exiting the locker room. He headed back the way he came, determined to have a few words with Randy Orton. A few seconds later, he was back in front of his friend's dressing room door and knocked loudly.

"Yeah, come in," came the answer.

John shoved the door open and stared Randy down.

"Whoa…" Randy started, and dropped the shirt he was folding. "What did I do?"

"You _know_ what you did," John said distinctly. He stepped into the room and leaving the door open behind him. "How did Dwayne know I was having problems with Amy?"

"How am I supposed to know," Randy asked, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "I don't think I like where you're headed with this."

"I don't think I like it either," John growled. "One of my best friends stabbed me in the back. I confided in you about what's been going on with my marriage—only because you wouldn't let up about what's been bothering me lately—and then you go and tell THE one person I wanted to keep it from." John paced the floor angrily. "Do you realize how relentless he's going to be now? He can say whatever he wants about me, but he better back off my family and my personal affairs. That is NOT going to be used in some childish promo. I respect his personal life, so he's going to learn the hard way to stay out of my business." His eyes glimmered as he continued to stare Randy down, and he balled up his fists. "Just as soon as _you_ learn to not cross me like that."

"Whoa, John…" Randy said, backing up. He did not wish to fight—_really_ fight—his friend over a complete misunderstanding. "I did _not_ tell Dwayne about Amy. I didn't. I promise you. I don't even like the guy, so why would I do that," Randy continued, hoping his friend would see the truth. "Especially, when I've never backstabbed you before. Why would I start _now_? It's not like I'm trying to step on you for a shot at advancing my career. I already have a great career, like you. What would I gain from doing that? Think about it, bro."

John paused and loosened his fists. His expression softened. It seemed that Randy's words hit home.

"You're right. And I've known you too long…you wouldn't do that." He puffed out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, man."

Randy nodded, "I get why you were suspicious, since I was the only one you talked to about Amy. But just think about how I do everything I can to keep my wife and daughter out of the business. And I respect anyone who wants to do the same by their family. It isn't anyone's place to bring a co-worker's personal life out to the ring."

"No, it's not," John agreed. "I just don't know how he found out."

"Easy," a familiar voice scoffed from behind John. "I heard you two gabbing about it like a couple of high school girls."

In a flash, John had spun around, grabbed Dwayne Johnson by the throat and proceeded to propel them both out into the hallway. He slammed Dwayne into the wall and got right in his face. "I don't care how you found out. You are NOT to take it out to the ring." John was vaguely aware of Randy at his side trying to pull him away from Dwayne, but he instead ignored him and went on with his point. "And _definitely_ keep my mother out of this. How low will you stoop, Dwayne? I don't care that you did it as a joke. My mother's done nothing to you, so you leave her alone. I have not, and _will_ _not_ disrespect your family that way. And you aren't going to disrespect mine. I won't have it." He tightened his grip on Dwayne's throat when he heard numerous footsteps headed their way, "And if you do it again, so help me…it will take _more_ than all the wrestlers, referees and security guards in this company to tear me off you. Got it, Rock?" Several men suddenly grabbed him around the waist and shoulders, and pulled him away. John let them, but only because he was mostly through talking. "I asked you a question."

Instead of answering, Dwayne just grinned his cocky smile and straitened his shirt. "You've got a lot of nerve, Cena," he chuckled. "Cheating on your wife and acting like you're just trying to protect her. When in fact, you're trying to protect yourself. And all the while, you're contemplating divorcing her."

"I'm not trying to 'protect' anybody," John said, balling his fists at his sides. "What I want is my privacy left alone. And I did not cheat on my wife. Not that I have to justify that to you. _You_ on the other hand…where do you have the right to be so high and mighty?"

"What are you talking about, Cena," Dwayne rolled his dark eyes, but there seemed to be a flash of apprehension pass through them.

"I'm talking about the fact that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"You've lost me," Dwayne smirked. "You've taken one too many shots to the head."

"Oh, have I? What, you think no one saw you that night in '03?" John was obviously enjoying his turning of the tables.

"John, there was 365 nights in 2003. Which one are you referring to?"

John grinned and flashed his dimples.

"The one in which you went with Stacy into her hotel room."

A curse flew past Dwayne's lips, "That's a lie, and you know it, Cena."

"Is it? Don't make yourself look like a moron, Dwayne. Everyone knows about it. They all just kept quiet for the sake of your reputation. I think you owe everybody a huge 'thank you'. Otherwise your divorce could have happened a lot sooner."

"I did not sleep with her!"

"Save your breath. She told quite a few people. It's no secret." He shrugged then. "It doesn't make me any difference. Just don't accuse someone of doing something you're guilty of yourself. _Especially_…when your accusation is false."

Dwayne simply glared at him, his jaw twitching angrily.

"Oh, and just so you know…I do realize you are scripted to win our match." John grinned again. "But that doesn't mean I have to make it easy for you. Unlike how you came out of nowhere and got handed a Mania match after being gone for the last several years…you're gonna _earn_ the win." He laughed then, "Don't misunderstand. It _may_ be a quick win…but it's sure gonna be painful. Get ready for some surprises. See ya there, Rock." With that, John saluted his Wrestlemania opponent and walked away, whistling happily.

"What have you done," one of the referees asked Dwayne. "I'm scheduled to ref your match at Mania…and something tells me you've just made my job a lot harder."

"Yeah, and mine too," Dwayne muttered as he headed back to his dressing room. _One thing I can say about Cena, _he thought, _is he always follows through_.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Hi, are you ready to check those out," Sharlotte asked, and smiled at a customer hovering near the circulation counter of the public library. The teenaged boy was apparently going to be the last customer of the day, and Sharlotte was eager to help him and send him on his way so she and her co-worker, Lana, could close up.

"Yeah, but, I'm new here, and I need to get a library card," the boy said. "Will I be able to check these books out today?"

"Sure," Sharlotte replied taking the books and setting them on the counter. Then she handed him a sheet of paper and a pen. "If you will fill this little form out, I can set you up with a temporary account and get your application to processing."

"Great, thanks," the boy smiled and began filling out the piece of paper that asked for his basic information.

At that moment, Lana walked in from the office. "TGIF, huh," she chuckled, grabbing some books off the return shelves, and preparing to put them in their correct place.

"You got that right," Sharlotte returned. "It's been a long and crazy week."

Minutes later, she had set up the new-comers temporary account and checked his books out for him. Stamping the due date on the last book, she handed them over and smiled. "Hope you enjoy them. They'll be due back on April thirteenth."

"Thanks," the kid smiled and then turned around and exited the building.

"Yay," Lana exclaimed. "We're home free!"

Sharlotte laughed, "Come on, let's get the rest of these books put away. I want to go home!" The two women each grabbed a pile of books and began putting them back in their rightful places.

While she was relieved her work day was almost complete, but Sharlotte actually loved her job very much. She remembered the day she got the job at the library like it was yesterday.

She had graduated from high school and went to college, majoring in Library Science. She loved research as well as books, so she thought it was the perfect fit for her. Plus, she and Julie had a close family friend who managed the public library and who encouraged her to get a career in that area. So, as soon as she graduated from college a few years later, Emilia—the woman who'd encouraged her—offered her a job at the library immediately afterward.

"I finished my stack," Lana called out. "Do you need help with yours?"

"Nope," Sharlotte called back, sliding Pride and Prejudice back onto its shelf. "I'm done too."

"Then let's get outta here!"

"Sounds good to me," Sharlotte sighed, heading back to the front of the library.

"So what have you got planned for the weekend," Lana asked, as they headed across the parking lot to their cars.

"Not a whole lot," Sharlotte answered, piling her blond hair up into a clippie. "Are you going to watch WrestleMania on Sunday?"

"Oh, I want to, but I had a busted pipe at the house that I had to have repaired. It's totally set me back."

"Well, I saved up to order it this year. I thought it would surprise Noah. How about you come over, and bring Tyler? I'm sure the boys would love to hang out, and get to see WrestleMania too."

"Well that sounds great, but what about Julie? Won't we keep her awake?"

Sharlotte smiled, "That's the beauty of it. She is off Sunday, and won't go in to work till late the next night."

"Ah, well that's awesome. And yes, if we won't be a bother, I'd love to come and I know Tyler would too."

"Great! Just come over anytime. We can hang out and watch a movie or two before the pay-per-view comes on."

"Will do!"

The women climbed into their cars then, and headed to their homes to relax on the remainder of their Friday evening.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Hurry up, Aunt Sharlotte," Noah called from the living room. "The bell just rang!"

"On my way," Sharlotte called back.

A second later she was walking into the living room with a large tray of plates with chocolate cake. "Thanks so much for bringing the desert, Lana. It looks delicious."

"Well thanks for providing the dinner," Lana returned, "It was really, really good."

"Well, thanks! I worked very hard on it," Sharlotte joked, gesturing to the now empty Pizza Hut pizza boxes.

"Shhh," the two young boys in the floor shushed them, and turned their attention back on the match playing out on the television.

"Who's winning," Sharlotte asked, handing out plates of cake.

"No one, yet," Noah answered, his gaze glued to the television.

"I think Cena's gonna win," Lana's son, Tyler, declared. "I just have a feeling."

"I don't think so," Noah chimed in. "No way would the Rock come back for a WrestleMania match only to lose. Especially in his home town."

"So where'd Julie get off to," Lana asked quietly. "Are you sure we aren't disturbing her?"

Sharlotte shook her head, "No. She kind of hates wrestling. She's okay with Noah watching it, but she isn't a fan in the least."

"Yeah, it's kind of like Opera. You either love it or you hate it."

"SHHH!" The boys shushed them again and they all gasped as the Rock slammed Cena against the canvas and covered him for only a near fall.

"Thank goodness," Sharlotte said. "I can't figure out who's gonna win, but I sure wish Cena would." She got up then to refill her glass of iced tea, when Noah asked Sharlotte if he and Tyler could have a glass of milk to go with their cake.

"Sure thing, kiddos. Be right back." She ruffled the kids' hair and then entered the large kitchen and refilled her iced tea, as well as poured the boys' a glass of milk. She noticed a few dishes that had been left out on the counter, and loaded them into the dishwasher. And that was when she heard from the living room:

"Whoa!"

"No way!"

"What's he doing?!"

She hurried into the living room just in time to see Cena slam a steel chair onto the head of the Rock.

"Oh, no."

_After so many times of him saying he will never go heel…he's finally done it_, Sharlotte thought, not sure how to feel about her favorite wrestler being a "bad guy". Granted, the Rock was the one acting like a prepubescent teenager—in Sharlotte's opinion, anyway—but the Rock's number of fans was overwhelming. Attacking him with a chair—when a chair wasn't permitted—automatically made Cena a heel.

The referee called for the bell and it was done. The WrestleMania match that many fans had waited a year for was officially over.

The match was through but John Cena—however—was not.

The four watched, unable to look away, as John Cena grabbed a microphone from the commentator's table.

"Don't worry Cenation," Cena said, as he made his way back into the ring where the Rock still lay gaining his senses. "I've not crossed over to the dark side. This is merely pay back for a little comment about my mom on Monday night." He started to toss the mic down, but then stopped and brought it back to his mouth, "And for anyone who says what I'm about to do 'isn't fair'…the match is over, and _he_ won it. So, I don't really care about 'fair' right now."

With that, he threw the mic down and grabbed up the chair he'd used earlier. Bringing it over his head, he slammed it against Dwayne's back. At the larger man's pained shout, John shouted, "Don't…" He brought the chair up again and he slammed it back down, "Mention…" and the chair flew up again. "My family…" The chair plummeted downward and cracked across Dwayne's back yet again. "Again…" He gave Dwayne one last hard hit with the chair and then threw it down.

Sharlotte, Lana and the boys all watched in a dead silence, unsure of what to think. They couldn't tear their eyes away from the television as John picked up the microphone again and glared down at Dwayne Johnson.

"I mean it, Rock. I never want to hear my family's names come out of your mouth again. Oh, and congrats on the win, pal."

He dropped the microphone again, and then started out of the ring as his entrance music started up. The crowd was all but silent as they watched Dwayne manage to rise to his knees.

"Listen at how quiet the audience is," Sharlotte commented.

"They know that was real," Lana said. She was still in shock at what she'd just seen.

"Y-yeah…" Sharlotte agreed. "That was definitely not scripted."

"I can't blame him," Noah spoke up. "If someone talked about Mom or you like that, I'd want to do the same thing."

"Yes, well I don't think you have to worry about that, Noah," Sharlotte chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. The anger on John Cena's face was unnerving and hard to forget.

"I wonder what will happen at RAW tomorrow night," Tyler spoke up.

"I don't know," Sharlotte said. "But I have a feeling Cena may be getting a tongue-lashing from Vince right about now."

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte was right.

The minute John stepped backstage, Vince was at the gorilla position.

"Come to my office, John. We have to talk."

He nodded, and followed his boss back to his office, knowing full well what lay ahead.

"Sit down," Vince said gruffly, when they entered the room. "What the devil were you thinking out there," the older man demanded.

"Hey, he won the match didn't he? Just like it was scripted."

"He was to win via pin fall, John. And you know that."

"Well, in case you missed it, he made some very unsavory remarks about my mom, Vince. Among other things he had no place making public."

"You mean the 'divorce' comment?"

John nodded, "Yeah. I'm not divorcing my wife, but we're having some problems and he overheard me talking to Randy about it."

"I'll talk to him and let him know to keep his promos cleaner next time, and to not involve any personal matters. Although, I think you may have taken care of that anyway."

John could have sworn there was a slight twinkle in his boss' eyes.

"I do have to take action though, John. If I don't, the other superstars will think they can get away with changing their match's endings to their likings. Not to mention…you could have caused a riot out there! You're lucky the fans didn't flood the ring. I don't have the security to stop something like that. This punishment is to also teach you a lesson in safety. Think a little more before you act, John."

"Okay, hit me," John said, leaning forward in his chair and waving off the warning. "What's my sentence?"

"You're suspended for a month, and you will be fined ten-thousand dollars."

_Amy's going to love that_, he thought sarcastically. But he kept his sentiments in check. "Alright. I'll get the fine taken care of immediately. Are we done?"

At Vince's nod, John rose to his feet and headed back to the showers to get cleaned up and go home.

_Home_… he thought. _Is home truly home anymore_?

* * *

**Author's Note: **If younotice any cuss words in my stories that I'm rewriting, PLEASE let me know either in a review or a private message. I'm going over each chapter with a fine-tooth comb to make sure I'm cutting them out, but it's possible that I may still miss one here & there. So please let me know, no matter how small the cuss word is. Now I realize what I call a cuss word might not be what you'd call a cuss word (everyone has different views on that) so anything that you think might be questionable, please feel free to tell me. I'd greatly appreciate it. Thank you in advance! :)

Oh, and I will try to get more of this edited & posted, but being less than a week to Christmas, it may be after that. I'm having doctor appointments, not to mention some holiday baking & getting things ready for the holiday. If I don't get to post again before the holiday, have a very Merry Christmas! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers: **I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: **I know that suspensions are usually announced on WWE's website pretty soon after they happen, but for drama's sake, I'm handling it differently in my story, lol.

Oh, and when I mention "karma" in this chapter, I don't mean former TNA Knockout Awesome Kong/WWE Diva Kharma. Just a head's up, lol.

_**Chapter Three**_

Sharlotte and Noah sat down on the large sofa with a big bowl of popcorn and cans of soda, just as Monday Night RAW's opening pyro blasted throughout the arena. A few short seconds later, Nickleback's Burn It To the Ground began playing in the background as Jerry Lawler announced that RAW was live in Miami, Florida. He went over some of the matches set up for the evening, and then mentioned that John Cena had a big announcement to make later in the night.

Noah looked over at his aunt, "Do you think it's good news, or bad news?"

Sharlotte thought for a moment. She had a feeling it was bad news, due to the way Cena acted the night before at Wrestlemania. But she didn't want to voice her opinion to Noah. He really looked up to John Cena and she did not want to jeopardize that. "I have no idea," she chuckled. "Let's see what happens."

They both watched as The Rock came down to the ring and grabbed a microphone. He stood in the middle of the ring with his signature smile, and thanked the fans for their support. Then his facial expression went serious.

"To say I'm surprised by the outcome of the match last night, is an understatement," he said. "I thought we would have an honest, clean match and-"

_Click._

Noah glanced at Sharlotte when the channel abruptly switched.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I just really don't want to hear him right now. Is that okay with you, or do you want to watch?"

Noah shook his head, "Nah. Let's keep the channel turned till he's done."

So, Sharlotte switched the channels back and forth to see when he left the ring. At one point though, she paused when she heard him mention a "vision". Curious to see if his Cena bashing was done, she listened cautiously.

"Would the people like to hear The Rock's vision," Dwayne Johnson asked.

There was a huge thunderous applause and many cheers.

"I'd like to tell him what he could do with his little vision," Sharlotte said, rolling her eyes.

Noah laughed and then turned his attention back to the television and listened as Dwayne Johnson spoke again.

"That vision is this…That The Rock—one day—will walk down that aisle…as the jabroni-beating, pie-eating, trail-blazing, eyebrow-raising, one vision in mind, don't need no revamping, The Rock is going to be WWE Champion!"

"Oh, man," Noah said. "I hope they don't have Punk lose the title to him."

"Me too," Sharlotte said softly. "I would not like that at all."

Finally, The Rock left the ring and Sharlotte saw as he began posing and running his hands along his waistline; signifying that he wanted the title belt. Then he held up a number one and said "One time".

The cameras cut off then, and a video package prior to Wrestlemania aired of John Cena stating that if The Rock won, he'd lose everything.

Sharlotte shook her head smiling slightly, _I sure hope he was acting when he said that line_. "_Lose everything_"? _He'll always have fans_, _no matter what happens. He's married_, _has a great job and success. I highly doubt a loss from The Rock is going to cost him_ "_everything_".

She and Noah sat through a match between Santino Marella, against Dolph Ziggler and Jack Swagger, and then a three-minute squash match between Alex Riley and new-comer, Lord Tensai—formerly known as A-Train.

Then finally, John Cena's entrance music blasted forth, and Cena emerged from the Gorilla position, heading down the ramp to make his announcement.

But, he was wearing a sling.

_Uh, oh, _Sharlotte thought. _What's happened?_

Cena got into the ring and motioned for the time keeper to hand him a microphone. He instantly brought the mic to his lips and motioned for his music to be cut. "Hey ladies and gents," he called out. "I'm going to make my announcement short, sweet and to the point. As you can see I'm most definitely not one-hundred percent right now. As it turns out, I somehow managed to dislocate my shoulder last night. Luckily, I'll only be gone for about a month. But till then, I'm out of action."

Sharlotte could hear a loud "Serves You Right" chant break out through the arena. She shook her head. On one hand, she could understand the fans being upset over the match and its outcome. But on the other hand, she still couldn't bring herself to blame Cena for his actions. _A man that will defend his mother like that could not be all bad_, she thought. The fact that the fans were basically telling him he'd been owned by karma, just showed their true maturity levels. She looked over at Noah then, as he took in Cena's words. _Thank God he didn't turn out like those fans._

"So anyway, folks," Cena concluded. "Sorry to those of you who were unhappy with the match. I had every intention of a real wrestling match, till things unfortunately got very ugly last Monday. But seriously, to you—the fans—I do apologize sincerely."

Sharlotte couldn't stop the dreamy sigh that escaped her lips. There John Cena was, being heckled by an angry mob of fans, and he still had the ability to swallow his pride and apologize. _Now that's a man_, she thought smiling.

"What are you smiling about, Aunt Sharlotte," Noah asked, eyeing her strangely. "Cena's gonna be out for a whole month," he pouted.

"I know," Sharlotte said sympathetically. "It really sucks, kiddo. I just had my mind on something else." She ruffled his hair. "I'm sure the month will fly by, and he'll be back before you know it."

Noah nodded, though he still looked unhappy.

After Monday Night RAW went off, Sharlotte sent her nephew up to brush his teeth and to get ready for bed. She—on the other hand—had a strange feeling about Cena's injury. She thought back on his match the night before. Not once did he grab his shoulder in pain, or favor his arm, or anything.

She went upstairs and got ready for bed while her laptop booted up. She did a quick surf of all the wrestling dirt sheet sites she visited most frequently, trying to find some of the "reporters" opinions. Apparently, it was too soon after RAW however, because she could not find a thing.

Making a mental note to check out the dirt sheets after she got off work the next day and see what they had to say, she finally settled into bed and fell asleep.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

John drove his mustang down the street which led to his large home and pulled into his driveway. He guided the car into the huge garage and killed the engine. Hesitating to go inside and face his wife's sharp tongue, he sat for a moment. He wasn't afraid by any means, he was just in no mood for a fight.

"Eh, forget it," he finally said, pulling his keys out of the ignition. "Delaying the inevitable isn't going to help me out any."

He climbed out of the car and grabbing his bag from the trunk, he entered the house through the kitchen. Wheeling the rolling luggage to the hallway he looked up at the stairway.

"Amy," he called out. "I'm home, babe." _Why do I bother with endearments_, he wondered, slowly making his way up the stairs. He faintly heard his wife's giggle then, followed by a male voice, and paused.

The sounds were coming from their bedroom.

Clenching his jaw in anger, John grabbed his cap off his head and cracked his neck, releasing some tension.

"Well, I may as well get up there and scare whoever is with my wife," he muttered under his breath. He headed the rest of the way up the stairs and stood right outside the bedroom door. Seeing it was slightly ajar, an idea popped into his head. Quickly, he reached into his pocket, and grabbed his iPhone. He tapped the screen a couple times and brought up the camera, and began recording. He turned it to face him and he spoke quietly.

"What you are about to see is my wife—Amy Cena—in bed with another man. This is about the fifth act of infidelity to my knowledge, and the first act I've caught on camera."

With that, he quietly pushed the door open a ways, and stepped into the doorway. Smirking, he saw his wife with an averagely built blond-haired man in his bed. Not caring to watch the union, he looked away and let his camera collect the proof he would most likely need in the near future.

After a couple moments, he knew he needed to get his wife to look at the camera. Otherwise any court could argue that the footage could have been of anyone only resembling his wife.

"Are you guys finished," he asked loudly.

He got the result he wanted. The man looked as though he would have a heart attack, and Amy looked right into the camera, in both shock and outrage.

She screeched a curse in anger and yanked the bed covers up around her.

"What is this," the man demanded.

John took one look at the guy in his bed and glared as he shut off his camera, "I'm not going to kill you. But you only have about ten seconds to get dressed, get out of my bed and my house, before I do put a load of hurt on you."

The man scrambled from the bed and yanked on his jeans and grabbed his shirt and shoes, clearly not wanting to anger the larger man further. Then he was flying past John and sailing down the stairs to make his escape.

"John…baby, I can explain," Amy said, already working on a batch of tears. "I was just…so lonely…"

"Save it, Amy," John said. "How many times are you going to keep trying to fool me? You're only fooling yourself."

"But…but John, I love you. I _do_. I just-"

"Have a serious impulse control problem," John finished for her. "I'm sorry, Amy…but there's no room for that in this marriage, or _my_ house. I also really don't feel like dealing with a disease that you could—and eventually _will_—bring home to me."

"John, please…"

"You've said more than enough," he told her. "I have had it, Amy. I'm not sure what I want to do, but I need some time to think. You can stay here at the house. I'm used to hotels." He turned to leave the room, and headed for the door.

"John, please don't do anything brash."

"Oh, I won't," he told her, turning back around to face her. "You've done enough of that for the both of us. You can rest assured whatever action I take will be thoroughly thought through."

And with that, he left the room, headed down the stairs, grabbed his luggage and got right back into his car. Seconds later, he was headed for the Best Western Bay Harbor Hotel.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte took a sip of her coffee and had just finished reading a report at a wrestling dirt sheet that confirmed her suspicions.

John Cena was suspended for thirty days—as well as fined ten-thousand dollars—due to his conduct with The Rock at Wrestlemania.

Her phone rang suddenly then, and she closed the article off her browser.

"Hillsborough County Public Library…This is Sharlotte. How may I help you," she answered.

"_Is this Sharlotte Taylor_," a male voice asked.

"Yes, it is," Sharlotte replied, "Can I help you with something?"

"_Miss Taylor, this is Principal Jones at Coleman Middle School. I'm sorry to bother you at work, but you're down in Noah's file as the one to contact regarding any problems…"_

"Is Noah all right," she asked immediately, gripping the phone tightly.

"_Oh, yes, I'm sorry. Nothing like that. The thing is, he's gotten into a fight. I'm going to have to suspend him. I hoped you could take him home today and have a talk with him. I'm aware of yours and your sister's schedules so we could have him do In House Suspension starting tomorrow._"

"Suspended," Sharlotte gasped. "That doesn't sound like Noah."

"_Yes, that's why I was hoping you could take him home for the rest of the day. If you could get him to open up about it, we may be able to help the situation. I've a feeling it had to do with bullying, but he won't say what it is directly._"

"Okay," Sharlotte sighed. "I'll be there in just a few minutes." She hung up the phone and went to her boss' office to request the rest of the day off. "Emilia," she called knocking on the open door. "May I come in?"

She at first felt uncomfortable calling the older woman by her first name when she came to work at the library. But Emilia James had quickly put her at ease by saying, "Dear…friends don't call each other 'Mr.' and 'Mrs.', do they?"

"Of course you can," Emilia answered Sharlotte. "What can I do for you?"

Sharlotte stepped into the small office and explained her dilemma with Noah. "My nephew's being suspended due to a fight at school. Would it be okay to take the rest of the day off?"

Emilia nodded, "Yes, we're having a slow day anyway. Go and get your nephew and straiten him out, dear," she chuckled. "He's at such a critical age."

Sharlotte nodded, "Thank you. I will, believe me."

She left the office and grabbed her purse before hurrying out to the parking lot and getting into her car.

Within minutes, she was at the school and heading inside. It didn't take her long to reach the principal's office. Once she entered, she saw Noah sitting in a plastic chair off to the side of the room. He already had the beginnings of a black eye.

"Noah!" She hurried over to him and crouched down, inspecting his face. "What on earth happened? You know not to fight."

Noah didn't answer. He just sat in the chair avoiding eye contact with Sharlotte.

"Noah Jordon Taylor, you look at me, right now."

Hesitantly, the boy's gaze shifted to Sharlotte's face.

"Tell me what, happened."

"I don't want to talk about it here," Noah whispered.

"Fine, we'll discuss it at home," Sharlotte said and then glanced over at the principal. "Where is the other boy? Is he being punished as well?"

"Yes. There were actually _two_ other boys. Many students witnessed the scuffle. All of them stated the two boys instigated the fight. They also said Noah was only defending himself. Seeing as the other two boys have had a few other behavioral problems, and Noah has had none—till now—I have to believe Noah was not completely at fault. But, even so, I still have to punish both parties. Otherwise, parents could complain that I show favoritism."

"I can understand your position, Mr. Jones," Sharlotte said. "But nonetheless, I highly doubt you could get into too much trouble with so much evidence against the other two. Especially since my nephew has never done anything wrong. He's never so much as had a detention."

"Yes, Ms. Taylor. I understand completely. And I sympathize. Really, I do. That is why I'm only suspending Noah for two days."

"Well, if you insist on punishing him, can you at least make sure this doesn't happen again," Sharlotte asked angrily.

"I will certainly keep my eye on the situation."

"Thank you," Sharlotte said curtly. She turned her attention back to Noah. "Okay, let's go home and discuss this, kiddo."

As the boy stood, Principal Jones spoke to him softly, "Tomorrow just come here instead of home room, okay, Noah? We'll get your In House Suspension started right away."

Sharlotte couldn't help the slight death glare she shot the principal as she led Noah out of the office.

The boy followed his aunt out to her car and they rode in silence till they got home.

"Have you had lunch yet," Sharlotte asked him, hanging her purse in the hallway.

Noah shook his head, "No. I was in the principal's office for about an hour before he had you come get me."

"He didn't even let you eat?" She groaned under her breath, "Insufferable man. Come on in the kitchen, and I'll fix both of us some lunch, while we discuss this."

They both headed into the kitchen, and Sharlotte began grabbing cold cuts and cheese to make them a sandwich. She got down two plates from the cabinet and placed a couple slices of whole grain wheat bread on each of them. As she began putting turkey and roast beef on the bread she glanced over at Noah as he sat down at the kitchen table.

"So, you want to tell me what happened?"

Her nephew looked down at the table and answered quietly, "They heard me talking to a friend…about wrestling. They started making fun of me for watching it. I tried to ignore them. But they…"

Sharlotte heard him sniffle and looked up to see him crying.

"Oh, Noah… Don't cry," she said, hurrying over to him. "She gathered him into a hug and held him tightly in her arms. "I promise…this will be taken care of." She pulled back to look him in the eye. "Noah, I need you to answer me something, and be honest, please?"

The little boy nodded and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt.

"Did you fight back because you _had_ to? Did the other boys not let you walk away?"

He nodded again, "I didn't want to fight. I don't even know how. But one held me down while the other hit me. All I did was kick him in the knee, to get him away from me." More tears filled his blue eyes and he hugged Sharlotte again. "I didn't mean to be bad."

"Oh, sweetie, you weren't. Don't worry. I'm not angry at you," Sharlotte coddled him as she rubbed his back soothingly.

"What's happened," came a groggy voice from behind them. They both looked up to see Julie in the doorway, looking quite irritable. She entered the kitchen and took in Noah's condition.

"He was suspended for fighting today," Sharlotte said, and immediately realized she blurted it out all wrong.

"Fighting?! Suspended," Julie demanded. "Noah Taylor, you weren't raised to fight!"

"I'm sorry, Mom," Noah cried. "I didn't mean to."

"Let me explain, Julie," Sharlotte cut in. "He was being-"

"I don't care," Julie hissed at her sister. "We're not a family of animals, and we certainly aren't going to act like one!" She turned to her son then, "Noah, you are grounded for a week. That means no wrestling, no computer, no tv, no movies. And you're going to bed without supper tonight."

Sharlotte moved in front of Julie then, anger glinting in her gray eyes.

"He is _not_ going to bed without something to eat."

"Sharlotte…he's _my_ son. I will punish him as I see fit."

"You can ground him if you want. But starving him is abuse. I will not let you do to _him_ what Daddy did to _you_. Don't you remember how I'd sneak you some food into your room? I couldn't handle watching you starve, and I can't handle watching Noah either. He _will_ have dinner, Julie. I swear, I will make sure he eats."

Julie glared at her, "Fine."

"Jules…give him a chance to explain. He was being bullied. He didn't _want_ to fight!"

Julie looked down at Noah, "Is this true?"

He nodded. "Y-yes, Mama. Please, don't be mad at me. Two boys hit me. They were making fun of me watching wrestling…"

"So this is about wrestling," Julie asked, glaring up at Sharlotte. "I've told you so many times I hate him watching that garbage. He never should have been subjected to it. Especially at such a young age."

"But Momma…it's not-"

"I don't want you watching it anymore."

"Mom! Please," Noah begged. "I'll do whatever you want, just please don't make me give up wrestling!"

"That's my final word, Noah. No more wrestling."

With that, she turned and left the room. Leaving Noah in tears.

Sharlotte's eyes filled with tears as well. She couldn't imagine Noah not getting to see his favorite athletes anymore. And she couldn't imagine never watching wrestling with her little nephew cuddled up beside her again.

"I'm so sorry, Noah," she whispered shakily, pulling him into her arms. "I don't think I handled that the way I should have. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

Noah hugged her back and choked back a sob, "She'll never let me become a wrestler."

Sharlotte pulled back a ways and looked into his eyes, "This isn't over, Noah. I'll keep working on her to change her mind."

"Maybe to watch wrestling, yeah," Noah said. "But to train to become a wrestler, she'll never let me."

He said it with such sadness, Sharlotte couldn't bear it. She knew then, Noah needed her support. He needed her _approval_.

"Noah, if that's what you want, you will have to go for it," she whispered. "You can't let anyone or anything stand in the way of your dreams. _Nothing_." She wiped the tears from his cheeks. "I love you so much. And you know I'll do whatever I can to help you see your dreams come true."

Noah hugged her fiercely, "I love you too, Aunt Sharlotte."

Sharlotte would never know the relief her nephew felt at finally hearing her voice her support for him. The child had waited such a long time for it.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I cleaned up the scene of John finding his wife cheating as best I could. Hopefully, no one finds it distasteful. I just felt the scene was a tad necessary or I'd have nixed it all together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers: **I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

_**Chapter Four**_

_One Month Later_…

Feeling better than he had in the past three years, John drove up into his driveway, pulled inside the garage and killed the engine. Unlike the way he had hesitated a month before, he instantly got out of his car and grabbed his rolling luggage out of the trunk. Heading for the door to the kitchen, he opened the door and stepped inside. His eyes instantly fell on his wife sitting at the kitchen table, eating a salad.

At hearing his footsteps, she turned to face him, and her face broke into a huge grin. "Oh, John! I'm so glad you're home!" She ran to him and threw herself into his arms. "I was so afraid you'd never come back!"

John had pulled back and smiled down at her, "Relax babe. Everything has a way of working out."

Amy smiled up at him, her brown eyes lighting up in excitement. "We need to celebrate!"

John nodded, "I'm way ahead of ya. You've got a special delivery that should be here in a little while. Now, why don't you go upstairs and pack a suitcase?"

"A trip," Amy asked happily.

"Yep," John smiled, and flashed his dimples at her. "Where ever you want to go. I think a nice _long _trip will really ease some of the tension in our marriage."

Amy's forehead wrinkled in confusion then. "Well, baby, I agree. This is great…But, I thought you were going back to work now that you're officially off your suspension."

John shrugged and pulled his cap off, laying it on the counter. "I'll manage. One way or another," he answered. Before she had a chance to think about his cryptic statement, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Get up there and start packing, woman!"

Giggling, Amy did as he said and ran up the staircase to their bedroom, while John rolled his luggage to the laundry room down the hall. He pulled all of his clothing out along with some of the newer items he'd bought while he was living out of a hotel room. Piling them in the large washer, he began running the water and adding the liquid detergent and softener. He had just shut the washer door and was heading out of the room when he heard the doorbell chime.

He hurried through the foyer to the front door and opened it. A uniformed postal worker stood at the door.

"Is an Amy Cena here," the postman asked, glancing down at his clipboard.

John smiled, "Yes, she is. Feel free to step inside. She's upstairs. I'll go get her." Leading the postman into the large home's foyer, he jogged up the stairs and to the bedroom he'd shared with his wife. "Amy? You need to come down and sign for your package. Are you through packing?"

"Yes," Amy smiled, and kissed him as she walked by him. "Why couldn't _you_ sign for the package," she asked, heading down the stairs with John right behind her. "Is it some sort of new rule or regulation?"

"I don't know. Probably," John answered. "Hurry up though. I want to see the look on your face when you see what's inside."

This made Amy's steps speed up drastically. Eager to see what surprise John had gotten her, she stepped into the foyer and met the postman.

"Hi," she greeted, as the postman handed her the clipboard.

"Hi," he returned, "If you'll sign right here and date it, it's all yours."

"Great," Amy smiled, and scrawled her signature and the date on the form. In the next instant, the postman took the clipboard back and passed a thin box over to Amy.

"Thank you," she grinned, and began opening the box as the postman headed out their front door.

"Careful," John said. "I wouldn't want you to damage them. They're more valuable than you could imagine."

"Oh, John…" she smiled. "I just know I'll love them." She continued gingerly opening the box till she could safely reach inside and pull out its contents. She found herself looking down at a packet of papers. The top one read in big bold letters:

**PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE**

Speechless, Amy looked up at John, her eyes shooting daggers.

"What is this," she demanded.

"Well, it looks like divorce papers," John answered bluntly, pulling no punches.

"No way. This doesn't work John. I am _not_ giving you a divorce."

"I'm not _asking_ you to "give" me a divorce. I'm _taking_ one. Don't fight me on this, Amy. I've done my homework, trust me. I don't just jump in and do something. I think it over, and I research my decisions. You can't stop me from a divorce."

Amy growled out a colorful curse, throwing the papers at him.

"I'd take care of those if I were you," John taunted. "You just signed the proof that they were delivered to you. If you destroy them, or refuse to sign them, I'll file for a motion of default. And if you fail to respond to _that, _the divorce will be granted to me, and you'll lose any right to oppose the terms. You really don't have a choice, Amy," Cena said. "You have zero control over the situation. I know that's driving you up the wall, and I can't lie and say I'm not enjoying it."

"You cruel…piece of…" Amy stuttered out an incoherent insult.

"Maybe I am," John said with a shrug. "But at least I'm walking out of this marriage with my freedom back intact. You'll be leaving with what you came into the marriage with. Nothing."

"What are you talking about? You can't take gifts back!"

"Amy, Amy, Amy," John clicked his tongue, "Are you forgetting our little pre-nup?"

His wife screamed in rage, then and lunged at him, her hands ready to claw his eyes out. Cena quickly and easily dodged her attack and then grabbed her arms in an attempt to restrain her and avoid injury.

"Amy, calm down, or I'll have you arrested for domestic violence. I rarely toss my name around to get what I want, but so help me if you lay one finger on me I'll call the cops so fast your head will swim."

She screamed again and struggled against his hands. He was careful to hold her tight enough so she couldn't get loose, but loosely enough so he didn't bruise her. The last thing he needed was her accusations of domestic abuse.

"Now, are you calm enough, or do I need to restrain you a little longer," he asked.

She glared at him, but said quietly, "Let me go."

"Fine."

He loosened his hold on her wrists, but quickly latched onto her wedding ring. He deftly plucked it off her finger and slipped it into his jeans pocket.

"Oh, no you don't," Amy growled, reaching for his pocket.

"Oh, yes I do," Cena countered, pushing her hand away. "This ring meant nothing to you. So I'm not letting you keep it to go hock for a few bucks. I bought it, and it applies to the pre-nup. This ring was a gift, and I reserve the right to take it back."

"You sorry excuse for a man," she spat. "Why did you do all this? You said we were taking a trip. You said we'd worked everything out!"

John shook his head, "Nope. What I _actually_ said was that "everything has a way of working out". And it _is_ working out. For _me_. And as for the trip…all I said was for you to go pack. And to go where ever you wanted." He paused with a malicious glint in his sapphire eyes. "Now, go get your things and get out of my life, Amy."

Sputtering in rage, but unable to manufacture a coherent sentence, Amy stomped up the stairs to get her suitcase and anything else she owned.

A couple of minutes later, she came stomping back down the stairs and started for the front door. John stopped her however.

"I want your keys."

"What?"

"You heard me. I want your keys to my house, my gym, my cars, my storage unit and I want the remote control garage door opener. Now. Hand them over, or I'll get them myself."

Growling in fury, Amy dug into her purse and grabbed her key ring. She fumbled around and handed John each of the keys he demanded, and the garage door opener.

"There," she snarled, her eyes flashing fire. "You're going to be sorry, John Cena. Very sorry."

"Nope. I've already been sorry where you are concerned. I think now, I'll be _happy_."

Mumbling something about hating him, Amy spun around, and stalked out of the house, calling a taxi on her cell phone.

John puffed out a sigh of relief, as he watched her brunette head grow smaller and smaller.

He then went upstairs to do something he had not done in months.

He took a nap.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

A group of kindergarteners listened intently as Sharlotte read the story of Hansel and Gretel to them in the children's corner.

"_'We will bake first,' said the old woman, 'I have already heated the oven, and kneaded the dough,_'" She read out loud. "_She pushed poor Gretel out to the oven, from which flames of fire were already darting. 'Creep in,' said the witch, 'and see if it properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.' And once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too_.'

Sharlotte was near the end of the story when she felt her cell phone buzz in her pocket, signifying a text message. She ignored it for the moment and concentrated on the story. She loved the looks on the children's faces as she read the exciting parts. They were enthralled. And that was a big part of what she loved about her job. Teaching people to appreciate books and stories. There wasn't anything more satisfying than sharing her love of books.

_Except for when I was able to skate_, she thought. _Then skating was what I loved to share with the world. _Turning to the last page of the book, she finished the ending to the story. When she was done, the children clapped and cheered.

"Did everyone enjoy the story," Sharlotte asked smiling.

"Yeah," the children cried.

"Wonderful! Maybe your teachers can bring you back sometime, and I can read you another!"

"Yay!"

Sharlotte laughed and stood to her feet, "You all have a great rest of the day, and be sure to come back and visit here. We have so many stories and books to choose from." She watched as the teachers directed their students into single file lines and led them from the library. Several of the children waved to Sharlotte and she waved back, happy with how the reading hour had gone.

She felt her cell phone vibrate again and pulled it from her pocket. Glancing at the screen, she found both messages were from Lana.

_Leave it to Lana to think since it's her day off, I'm automatically available_, she thought chuckling. She tapped the screen a couple times and read the newest message first.

"_HEY_! _Ya there_?"

The first one read:

"_Guess who's filed for divorce as of May 1__st_?"

Shaking her head, she texted Lana back.

"_You have my attention_._ But I'm at work_, _lol_. _Can this wait till I'm off_?"

She headed back toward the circulation desk, and had just entered her office when her phone buzzed again.

"Lana, what am I going to do with you?"

Sighing, she looked at her most recent text message.

"_No need to reply back till you're off, but thought you'd like to know. One word: Cena_."

She gasped, but wasn't _completely_ shocked. So many bad rumors could be found online about Amy Cena, that Sharlotte often wondered why John married her in the first place.

_Well_,_ she _was_ his first love_, she thought. _Stands to reason, it's hard for him to let go._

"Poor guy," she thought out loud. "I can only imagine the crap that's being said to him on his Twitter." She shook her head, baffled by the immaturity and hatefulness of so many people.

She went to the circulation desk when she heard a customer approach, intent on reading up on the situation the next time she had the chance.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"*at*_JohnCena Dude, divorce is what happens when you're not at home enough to take care of your woman's needs, LOL_!"

"*at*_JohnCena was too busy fooling around with Divas and Ring Rats to realize his marriage was failing! Haha_!"

"*at*_JohnCena's wife's rarely at RAW & NEVER at HoF because she's at home messing around behind his back. And he's too stupid to realize it! #Loser_"

Sharlotte sat at her desk, staring at her laptop's screen in awe of the stupidity and meanness she'd just read on Twitter.

"Unbelievable," she uttered. Between the dirt sheets and Twitter, John Cena's name was being run through the mud. And she felt sure that Amy Cena would do her own share of mud-flinging in the next couple days.

"His anti-fans neglect to realize _he _filed for the divorce. Men who cheat on their wives _rarely_ are the ones who file for divorce." She rolled her eyes and glanced up at her bedroom television to watch a few seconds of the X-Division title match between Austin Aries and Zima Ion. She instantly felt badly knowing Noah would love to watch TNA with her, but she knew there was no way for it to happen at the moment. She was yet to wear Julie down on the subject. In the meantime, Sharlotte had shown Noah a couple Youtube channels of people who uploaded the full episodes of WWE RAW, WWE SmackDown and TNA Impact. She figured he could watch the programs up in his room without Julie knowing. That way he could keep up with what was going on. She hated going against her sister, but right was right. She could not go on seeing the sadness in Noah's eyes, while he tried to act as if everything was normal for her sake as well as his mother's.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to the computer and read a few more horrid tweets. She really did feel badly for Cena. He was going through enough as it was. An idea struck her then, and she got up and headed to her large bookshelf. She grabbed her Bible and walked back to the desk. Flipping through the Bible till she found the scripture she was looking for, she smiled, setting the Bible in front of her. Within a few seconds, she had the scripture typed out, and directed to John Cena.

"*at*_JohnCena_ '_And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us.'~1 John 5:14_"

Clicking the "Tweet" button, she turned away from the laptop, then stood and flopped across her bed to watch the remainder of TNA Impact.

It wasn't long till her eyes grew heavy, and she fell fast asleep.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

John stepped out of the shower in the men's locker room and dried off quickly, eager to dress and get to his hotel. All he wanted was a good night's sleep. He'd been used to getting proper sleep while he was suspended, and then he got back into the grind of work. He was staying pretty tired as of late. He figured it was due in part to the stress of the divorce process. Not to mention, the stress Amy was putting on him with her numerous calls, and emails.

After pulling on his jeans and t-shirt he grabbed his phone to put in his pocket, but stopped to glance at his twitter interactions before heading out.

He scrolled through the many hate messages he'd been expecting, and the psycho obsessive fans' "I love you" and "Marry _me_ now" messages. He finally came to a few sane ones wishing him well through his divorce, and quickly thanked them for their support. He finally came to one that stood out from the rest.

Drastically.

But in a good way.

"*at*_JohnCena_ '_And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us.'~1 John 5:14_"

John wasn't one to read the Bible, let alone study it, but he got the message loud and clear, however. The girl who tweeted the scripture to him was letting him know to trust in God's will for his life. And as long as he did that, everything would be fine.

Knowing he needed to hurry and get to the hotel, he wanted to thank the girl nonetheless. Her thoughtful gesture really did help him feel better about the situation.

"And it's nice to not have a girl saying only what she thinks I want to hear," he thought out loud. He clicked on her profile and didn't hesitate to click the Follow button. Then he took note of her real name, and typed out a message to her directly.

"*at*_IceLover1981 Thank you so much for the kind words and gesture, Sharlotte. Can't tell you how much better it made me feel_."

He clicked the "Tweet" button, then took one last look at her profile. "Pretty," he said, observing her profile picture. He saw a young woman with gray eyes, long golden hair, and an almost haunted smile. She looked quite angelic, and made Amy look like a plain Jane. But when John realized he had spent a long moment just staring at her face, he closed out of his Twitter app, and went on his way, frustrated that he was already thinking of other women.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"_Your time is up, my time is now  
You can't see me, my time is now  
It's the franchise, boy I'm shinin' now  
You can't see me, my time is now_!"

Sharlotte smiled and giggled in her sleep as her cellphone rang, the sound of John Cena's voice entering her dreams. However, when the beat of his theme song kept thumping near her ear, she finally came awake, and realized her phone was ringing.

"Oh!"

She sat strait up in bed and grabbed the phone, looking at the screen. Groaning, she pushed the "Talk" button to answer the call.

"Lana, what in the world are you doing calling me at three in the morning?"

"_I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it_! _Sharlotte_…_I couldn't sleep_. _I got online_…_checking Twitter, and_…_You're not going to believe this_!"

"What, Lana? Tell me, or I swear I'm going to hang up and go back to sleep," Sharlotte threatened, brushing her long braid over her shoulder.

"_John Cena tweeted you_! _He thanked you for some scripture you tweeted to him earlier tonight. And I just looked at your _"_Followers_" _list_, _and he even _followed_ you_!"

"No," Sharlotte gasped. "For real?!"

"_And he didn't just call you by your twitter ID_, _he called you by name_!"

"Okay, Lana…I'm having information overload. Calm down, or you are going to be the cause of me losing it, and acting like a pathetic fan girl."

"_I'm so excited for you_," Lana went on. "_He called you 'Sharlotte'_!"

"Oh, my God," Sharlotte fought off a giddy scream. The last thing she needed was to wake up Noah and have to tell him that their favorite wrestler was following her on Twitter. It might make him even more depressed.

"_I know_, _right_?"

Sharlotte headed over to her laptop which was still running on her desk. "Are you sure," she asked her friend. "I mean…you aren't just seeing things?"

"_Nope_!"

She sat down and went to her Twitter interactions. Sure enough she saw where THE John Cena was following her, and saw his reply as well.

"*at*_IceLover1981 Thank you so much for the kind words and gesture, Sharlotte. Can't tell you how much better it made me feel_."

"Oh, my God," she cried again. She could actually feel goose bumps and tears burning her eyes. "Lana, he said I helped him feel better! I helped him feel better!" She giggled then. "I'm so happy!"

"_So am I_," Lana giggled back. "_That's so freaking awesome_!"

"Has definitely made my night! Wait…no…it's made my…decade!"

"I bet! Well, I think my adrenaline rush is leaving, so I'm gonna let ya go now. I may actually get some sleep now."

Sharlotte heard her yawn then, "Okay, well I 'll talk to you soon. Thanks for calling me!"

"You bet! Later!"

The two disconnected the call, and Sharlotte quickly typed another tweet to John Cena.

"*at*_JohnCena Wow…thank you SO much for the tweet and follow! And I'm really glad the scripture helped you to feel better. Always trust God. He's the one person who won't fail you. :-) Take care & keep your chin up, Champ_."

Then she shut her laptop down, and went back to bed, smiling happily in her sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers: **I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Chapter Note:** In my story, Twitter is not limited to 140 characters, LOL! And I have to use asterisks instead of the "at" symbol since this site is so particular about characters. Ugh...

_**Chapter Five  
**_

John turned onto his back in the large bed he now claimed as his own. He'd of course replaced the mattress and box springs set after what his soon-to-be ex-wife did in it.

_Or rather, _who_ she'd done in it_, he thought, throwing a muscled arm across his eyes to block out the unwanted sunlight.

He knew he needed to get up in a short while to do his cardio workout, but he desperately needed a little while longer to lie in the bed. He normally was much more energetic, but the past few months had taken a lot out of him. The last month had proven to be the _most_ stressful however. He'd lost whom he considered to be the love of his life. Instead, she wound up being the _nightmare_ of his life. He shook his head, realizing he'd never get back to sleep. Sitting up and propping himself against the headboard, he reached for his cell phone and began looking at his Twitter interactions.

He could not begin to guess how many tweets he had gotten since the night before, and he couldn't help but admit to himself, there was only one person's tweets in particular he was searching for.

Sharlotte Taylor.

The girl who had somehow managed to help him see a brighter side of things with just one tweet.

He scrolled through a large number of tweets before he lost his patience and thought of a short cut. He simply went to his "Following" list and clicked on Sharlotte's profile at the top of the list. He noticed she had not put "Followed by *at*JohnCena" in her bio. That was a nice change. Most of the people he followed—especially the females—were quick to name drop him. He also liked the fact her tweets weren't flirty.

_Not that I'd mind a little flirting_, he thought, eyeing the blonde's picture. _But for now, I'm happy with the simple kindness in her tweets. _

Seeing the last tweet she posted was directed to him, he couldn't stop a smile from crossing his face. And he didn't _want_ to stop it. It seemed so long since he last smiled. _Really_ smiled.

"*at*_JohnCena My friend just woke me up at 3 A.M. to tell me you followed me & tweeted me, LOL! Wow…thank you SO much! Wasn't expecting that at all! And I'm really glad the scripture helped you to feel better. Always trust God. He's the one person who won't fail you. :-) Take care & keep your chin up, Champ._"

He quickly typed out a tweet to her in return and clicked the "Tweet" button. Then he went into his settings and added Sharlotte into his list of mobile alerts. From then on, whenever she tweeted, his cell phone would sound.

_I must be out of my mind_, he thought, rising up off the bed. _I don't even know her and yet I've added her to my mobile alerts like she's a personal friend. She probably hasn't even added _me_ to _her_ alerts_! But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to alter his decision.

For once, someone had tried to make him feel better, instead of the other way around. He loved being a person who could be relied on and trusted—someone who tried to make a positive difference in the world. But once in a while, it would be nice for someone to make him feel appreciated—to feel as if he mattered.

And Sharlotte Taylor had done just that.

Feeling a little more like the John Cena from years past, he walked into the bathroom, and started the shower, prepared to get his morning jog in.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte sat at a little table at the café across from the library, and picked at her grilled chicken salad while reading _The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo_. She knew she should eat, but the two tweets from John Cena had really worked her over. She was excited about them, and that excitement had done a number on her appetite.

"Get a grip, Sharlotte," she scolded herself, and deliberately took a big bite of her salad. "It was just a couple of little tweets. It's not like you've built a friendship with the guy!" She shook her head at her childish fantasies, and managed another bite of salad. _But_, _in my defense_, she thought, _it's not every day the face of WWE tweets his fans. And more than once, at that_!

She surprised herself by finishing her salad, and after throwing the container away, she sat back down at her table and pulled out her cell phone, checking for texts and emails. Immediately, she saw in her email a notification that John Cena had tweeted her yet again.

Upon reading the tweet, Sharlotte was speechless.

"*at*_IceLover1981 Despite your friend waking you up, I hope you got enough sleep. Again, I thank you for your uplifting words. You have a kind heart, Sharlotte Taylor. Don't let that change._"

Sharlotte realized she'd been holding her breath. She let it whoosh out quietly, and then texted a tweet in reply to John's.

"*at*_JohnCena You're very welcome. Really. _:-)_ You give so much to your fans and ask for so little in return. It's high time some of them paid you back. :-) I just wish I could do more._"

Clicking the "Tweet" button, Sharlotte pocketed her phone, and then seeing she still had some time before she had to return to work, she settled back into her book. She had just turned the page when her email alert sounded. She grabbed her phone and went into her inbox, instantly spotting another Twitter notification.

"_John Cena_ (*at*_JohnCena_) _has sent you a direct message on Twitter_!"

"Seriously," Sharlotte gasped. She headed to her Twitter and went into her list of Direct Messages and hurriedly clicked on the one from John Cena.

"_If you only knew how much you've really done. I have to say, each of your tweets bring a smile to my face. I've added you to my mobile alerts. Hope you don't mind_."

"'Hope you don't mind'," Sharlotte parroted. "I'm _thrilled_!" She typed a reply to his message and quickly sent it.

_"Well I'm so glad I can make you smile! :-) And no, I don't mind at all that you've added me to your mobile alerts…but why? I mean…I'm happy you did, but I just don't understand why."_

Seeing her break time slowly coming to an end, Sharlotte placed her bookmark inside her book and got her things gathered together. Then she heard her email alert again. Smiling, she checked into it and sure enough, it was another direct message from John Cena.

"_Why_? _Because I have a good feeling about you. I usually have great intuition about people, despite my soon-to-be ex-wife. She was the only person who fooled me. Anyway, I added you to my alerts, because I can sense from your tweets that you really do care. And because even my closest friends (except for Randy) haven't shown the amount of concern you've shown. I've heard that sometimes it's easier to confide in a stranger than a loved one. I think there's a lot of truth in that_."

Sharlotte quickly replied back again, astonished by the heartfelt honesty in his answer.

"_Well, I have a good feeling about you too. I know that a man with a heart as big as yours could not be a bad person. :-) I have to go back to work (lunch break) now, but hope to talk to you again soon. Take care_!"

Wishing she could stay longer and talk to him a little more, she hesitantly rose to her feet and headed back across the street to the library.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"_Well, I have a good feeling about you too. I know that a man with a heart as big as yours could not be a bad person. :-) I have to go back to work (lunch break) now, but hope to talk to you again soon. Take care_!"

John sat on his weight bench and smiled as he read the last couple lines of Sharlotte's direct message. Immediately he wrote her back.

"_Anytime I interrupt something you should be doing (such as eating), don't worry about hurting my feelings, Sharlotte. Don't feel like you have to drop what you're doing just to talk to me. Don't treat me any different than you would an acquaintance. Or a friend_. :) _Will talk to you soon_. Take care."

After the message sent, he started to resume his weight lifting, only to be interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Sensing who was behind the call, he groaned, picking the phone back up and looking at the screen.

"Amy…give it a rest," he thought out loud. Tapping the screen, he answered the call.

"What do you want?"

"_I want to know why you're private messaging some girl on Twitter while you're still married_!"

"We're in the middle of a divorce, Amy. I don't' think it's any secret that I intend to become single. Which means I will be free to date if I want. However, the girl you're referring to is only an acquaintance. She's been helping me to see—"

"_She's just trying to get to your money, you idiot_," Amy hissed in his ear.

"Well then I guess I won't be any worse off than I was with you, will I," John asked. "The thing is, even _if_ this girl's just trying to use me, she at least can make a better show of caring than you _ever_ did." He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to get his temper in check. "Besides, what business is it of yours? And how did you even know about her?"

"_I saw the tweets going on between the two of you. And then they seemed to stop for a while, so I got into your Twitter and checked your direct messages_."

"Oh, how nice, Amy," John said with a false brightness in his tone. "So you're resorting to hacking now? That's a federal offense, ya know?"

"_Don't be ridiculous_! _I knew your password_!"

"Did you have my permission to get into it?"

"_Well_, _no_. _But_-"

"There ya go. That makes it illegal."

"_But you're my husband_!"

"That doesn't matter, Amy. Quit playing dumb," John said, surprisingly gently. "You're smarter than that. And, I'm not going to be your husband for much longer. It's time you accepted that."

"_But you are for now_."

John groaned his frustration, "Whatever, Amy. Seriously, I'm hanging up now." With that, he ended the call and laid his phone back on the floor.

"Note to self: Change all passwords," he muttered under his breath as he continued his workout.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte walked back into the library and was headed for her office, not even realizing the smile she had on her face.

But Lana did.

"Holy crap, girl! What's that smile for," she asked, stopping Sharlotte short.

"Huh," Sharlotte asked, coming out of her daze, "Oh, I'm smiling…" she chuckled then, a blush creeping up her pale face. "I just-"

"Cena tweeted you again, didn't he," Lana grinned.

Sharlotte nodded, fighting the urge to bubble over with excitement, "Yes. It's crazy! I've not seen him tweet another fan in a long while. And when he does it's usually only once. But he gets back to me really quickly." She shook her head in amazement. "It's so surreal."

"What did he say to you?"

Sharlotte decided to keep his direct messages a secret. She didn't know how he'd like her telling about him about their private messages, and she didn't want to betray his trust so she just recapped his last actual tweet to her.

"He basically said that even though you woke me up at three in the morning, he hoped I got enough sleep," she said cocking her eyebrow at Lana. "He also thanked me again for being supportive, and told me I had a kind heart, and not to change."

"Wow," Lana sighed, "I'm so jealous!"

Sharlotte chuckled, "Well, don't be. It's either a fluke, or he'll get bored with me. I'm a librarian for crying out loud. Books are amazing, yes, but not everyone feels that way."

"Oh, please, Sharlotte," Lana rolled her eyes. "You're a package, face it! You've got the looks, the smarts, you're a sweetheart, and you're athletic. Men find athletic women sexy."

"I've not actually been athletic in about fifteen years, Lana," Sharlotte said softly.

"Well, you could be if you tried," Lana countered. "And besides, even if you couldn't be, you _look_ athletic."

"Well, I exercise," Sharlotte admitted, "But that doesn't make me an athlete."

"Quit arguing with me," Lana joked. "You know what I say goes."

Sharlotte playfully smacked Lana's shoulder, and then entered her office and sat down at her desk. Craning her neck to make sure no one was watching, she took her cell phone out and checked for any other messages.

Sure enough, she saw another email notification of a direct message from John. She hurriedly went to the message and read it. A couple of seconds later, she had to push her breath from her lungs.

"A _friend_," she read aloud softly. "Is he serious? Is he crazy? He's only talked to me a few times. Never seen me in person…" She shook her head, "I can't believe this. I have got to be dreaming."

Knowing she needed to get her mind on her work, she made a mental note to answer his message when she was off, and put her cell phone away.

Her office phone rang then, and she picked it up, prepared to get the rest of her work day under way.


	6. Chapter 6

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers: **I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

_**Chapter Six**_

It was about an hour till Sharlotte would get off from work, and she couldn't take it anymore.

She just _had_ to write John back.

Smiling after re-reading his last Direct Message to her, she sent him one in return.

"_I'd be honored to have you as a friend._ _And just so you know_, _I do drop what I'm doing when a friend needs to talk. _:)"

She stopped, nibbling on her bottom lip, and thought a moment before sending him another.

"_And just in case you've thought about it, you don't need to worry about me telling anyone about our DMs. I won't betray your trust_."

Sharlotte turned her attention back to her computer then and scanned in some of the returned books which had accumulated over the day's time, unable to fully get her mind on the task at hand. She was on her fifth book, when her phone dinged like a time-keeper's bell. She smiled, since that was the ringtone she'd set for when John tweeted or sent her a Direct Message. She hurriedly got back into her twitter and checked the message.

"_Well thank you_. _And if you're that selfless then you're a good friend to have_."

While she read the Direct Message, a second one came through.

_Most likely a response to _my_ second one_, she thought, smiling again. She read it, and almost swallowed her tongue.

"_It won't bother me if you talk about our DMs. My ex-wife already knows about you, so I doubt it can get much worse than her finding out, lol._"

"Oh, my God," Sharlotte gasped, feeling her heart plummet. "She'll run my name through the mud for sure!" Quickly, she texted him back and in her haste she didn't bother to correct the numerous errors she made.

"_What? How di d shr fine oit?! Will sh e try to reck my reputatiob?"_

"Oh, please, tell me she won't," she whispered. "Even if you're lying, please tell me she won't." She tried to calm her breathing as she awaited John's response. Something told her that Amy wasn't going to take kindly to John private messaging a woman in the midst of their divorce.

_Ding-Ding_!

She opened the latest message from John and read it.

"_Why do I get the feeling you're hyperventilating_? _Calm down, Sharlotte_. :) _She won't try to wreck your reputation. I understand your worried but don't be. If she tries, I'll take care of it. I promise_. _And I changed my passwords so she won't be doing it again_."

Sharlotte breathed a sigh of relief, and sent him another message.

"_Okay. I trust you. _:)_ And thank you._"

She set her phone aside and scanned and checked in a few more books before it dinged again. Picking the phone up, she read John's newest message to her.

"_I don't know about you, but this tweeting business takes so much longer than talking. How would you feel about trading cell numbers_?"

Sharlotte gasped, and re-read the message to make sure she wasn't seeing things. She could only manage typing out a one-word message:

"_Seriously_?"

_His Twitter must've been hacked_, she thought. _No way does John Cena want my phone number._

An instant later a ding sounded and she read the next message.

"_Too soon_?"

Immediately, Sharlotte messaged him back and voiced her concerns.

"_No, not too soon. Just…I'm having a hard time believing you're John Cena now, lol. How do I know your Twitter hasn't been hacked_?_ You wouldn't want me to give my number out to a potential psycho, now would you_?"

Almost immediately she got a reply back that said, "_Of course not_! _And you're right. I'll think of a way to prove it's me. Do you have Tout_? _If so, do you follow me on there_?"

In the next instant, Sharlotte replied to him, "_Yes_, _and yes_. :)"

She giggled when his next message came within a few seconds.

"_Ok then_. _Will direct a private Tout to you. Stand by for confirmation_. ;)"

Lana appeared in her doorway suddenly, "What are you giggling abou-?" She cut off as Sharlotte dropped her phone onto the surface of her desk, a late attempt to pretend she'd not been on her phone. The blush that crept up her pale face however told the whole tale.

"You're tweeting with him again, aren't you," Lana said in a hushed whisper, stepping fully inside the office. Her brown eyes lit up with excitement.

"Just a little," Sharlotte confessed. Nervously gathering her long hair into a ponytail and securing it with an elastic band. "Don't worry, I'll get my work done on time."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," Lana said, "I've declared us closed. The doors are locked and there's not very much to be done now. So…" She sat on the edge of Sharlotte's desk, a mischievous sparkle in her brown eyes. "I've been checking my Twitter some today as well. And I've not seen any new tweets between the two of you. Not since lunch. So what's going…" Then it dawned on her. "Wait…you…Sharlotte!" She saw her friend's blush deepen. "You're private messaging aren't you?!"

Sharlotte had no choice but to nod.

"Just please don't tell _anyone_, Lana. I don't want to cause any problems for him with his divorce. And his wife already knows about me, so-"

"What?!"

Sharlotte nodded again, "Yeah, she hacked into his Twitter account and saw our DMs to each other."

"Oh, my God, Sharlotte!"

"Is that excitement I detect, or a note of 'You should run the other way before Cena's wife kills you'?"

Lana shook her head, "No, no not that. It's excitement. And jealousy," she laughed. "But mostly excitement. What has he said to you? In private, I mean."

"I…I can't really say, Lana. I'm sorry. I just can't…I don't want to come off as one of those fans who go berserk and brag about every little tweet he sends."

Lana sighed, "I understand. I'd be the same way if I were in your shoes—I guess," she admitted regretfully. "But you have to promise if he says anything exciting to you, you _have_ to tell me!" She smiled, rising up off the desk.

"Well, okay…but…what could he possibly say to me that would be exciting?" She smacked her forehead with her palm, at realizing she had just unintentionally implied John Cena was boring. "I just mean, _why_ would he say anything exciting to me?"

"Well, I can't really say for sure," Lana smiled again. "But I get the feeling you're hiding something."

Sharlotte shook her head, and fiddled with a button on her blouse. "N-no. I'm not. There's nothing—"

_Ding-Ding_!

Lana dove for the phone as Sharlotte reached for it. Lana was quicker and grasped the phone in her hand.

"Lana, don't you dare!"

She lunged to snatch the phone back but missed as Lana dodged her. She could see her friend tapping her screen.

"Lana," she hissed.

"Oh, my God! He's touted you!"

"Lana! I'm going to kill you!"

She took off after her friend when she ran from the office, Sharlotte's phone still in hand. The fact that Sharlotte had to run around her desk gave Lana a good head-start.

"Holy Schnikies, Sharly! He wants your phone number," she heard Lana squeal. It sounded as though she was headed for the Juvenile Fiction area.

Sharlotte stopped in her tracks.

_I know that's why John sent me the Tout in the first place, but still, hearing someone else say it out loud_…_it's so surreal_!

"Awww!"

"What is it now," Sharlotte called out, still on the hunt for her friend—and her phone.

"Your tweets make him smile!"

"Quit reading my DMs!"

"And he called you a friend?!"

"Lana, you're dead!"

Finally she caught her friend in the Young Adults section and tackled her to the floor.

"Give me the phone," she laughed, wrestling her friend around on the carpet. "I want to see the Tout he sent me!"

Lana gave up the fight and handed the phone over, and watched as Sharlotte pulled up the short video John had sent her.

Both women watched as John smiled into the camera and spoke clearly.

"Okay, Sharlotte Taylor…Does this work as proof?" Then he moved closer to the camera and flashed his dimples—which consequently caused Sharlotte's heart to skip a beat—and spoke again. "Can I have that phone number now?"

"Oh. My. God," Sharlotte finally managed to choke out. "I can't believe it still."

"Girl, DM him your number now, before I do it for you," Lana demanded. "I can't believe you're hesitating!"

"I'm not _hesitating_," she said, getting back into her Twitter and began typing out a message to John. "It's just…things like this just don't happen. Not for _me_, anyway." She sent the message and stared at Lana. "How _did_ this happen, anyway?"

"You made a good impression," Lana smiled. "That's how."

"But it wasn't meant to be an impression," Sharlotte sighed. "I really did want to help him feel better. To let him know he does have fans who don't just like him because he's easy on the eyes."

"And so you did," Lana smiled, hugging her friend. "And he obviously knows you're being genuine." She looked down at Sharlotte's phone. "Can I ask what you said to him?"

"I asked him if he'd mind calling me later in the evening because I have to cook for Noah, and get some things done."

"Okay, come on," Lana stood and helped Sharlotte to her feet. "Let's get the rest of the books put away and get out of here. You have a very important call coming in later."

"Lana?"

Her friend caught the seriousness in her tone, and became serious as well, "Yes?"

"Please, please swear to me—_promise_ me—that you won't say a word to anyone about these DMs Cena and I have sent each other. Not even Tyler…_especially_ not Tyler. Kiddos can't keep secrets."

"I swear, and I promise," Lana smiled at her friend and traced an X over her heart. "You can trust me. I wouldn't sabotage you like that."

Sharlotte nodded, "I know. This is just so big. I don't want him to think he can't trust me."

"He won't. Besides, I stole your phone. You didn't divulge the info."

"Thanks, Lana," Sharlotte smiled and hugged her best friend. "You're like a second sister, you know that?"

"And you're the sister I didn't get to have," Lana grinned, and returned the hug.

"Now, let's get done and go home," Sharlotte squealed.

"Because John Cena's freaking gonna call you!"

With that, Lana went dancing back to the circulation desk for books to put away.

Shaking her head at Lana's silly antics, Sharlotte went to her office to grab her share of the books. _I think she's as excited about it as I am_, she thought laughing.

Less than a half hour later, the two women headed out to their cars and were driving to their homes.

When Sharlotte reached her house, she grabbed her purse and ran inside, hanging it in the hallway and flew as quietly as possible up the stairs, so as not to wake Julie. Tapping on Noah's door she said only loud enough for him to hear, "Noah, I'll get supper started soon. I'm just going to change my clothes."

"Okay," came the reply.

_He still sounds so depressed_, she thought, her high spirits plummeting a little. She entered her room and quickly changed into a pair of snug low-rise jeans and a pink tank top and then went back to Noah's door.

"Noah?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

There was a long pause.

"S-sure."

The door opened then, and Sharlotte saw that Noah didn't stick around to greet her. He was already walking back to his desk.

"Noah? What's wrong, kiddo?"

"Nothing. Just doing homework."

He was turned with his back to her, and wouldn't face her for anything.

"Are you mad at me, Noah?"

"No. Why would I be?"

"Noah, turn around and look at me."

"I'm really busy, Aunt Sharlotte."

"Noah. Turn around. Right now."

Knowing when his aunt and mother meant business, the boy slowly spun his desk chair and faced his aunt.

"Oh, my God."

Sharlotte hurried over to her nephew and gently tilted his head back, inspecting the new black eye he was sporting, along with the split lip and bruised cheek.

"Was it those boys again?"

Noah nodded, "I didn't fight them or anything, Aunt Sharlotte. I didn't want to get suspended again. I didn't want to make Mom mad either."

Sharlotte's eyes burned with tears as she looked her nephew over. "When did it happen?"

"After lunch. I ran home afterwards. Please, Aunt Sharlotte. I need you to call the school for me and get them to excuse my absence, or I'll get into more trouble."

Sharlotte nodded, "I will. And you're missing the whole day tomorrow as well. You and I are going to go to the cell phone store and I'm going to get you a phone. If anymore bullying happens, I want you to call me. Got it? And in the meantime, I'm going to have a talk with that principal again."

Noah nodded, tears beginning to pour from his eyes.

"Oh, come here, baby," Sharlotte cooed, and held him close. "It's going to be okay."

Noah nodded again, but a sob tore from his throat anyway.

"Has this been going on ever since the first time?"

"Y-yeah, sort of. They weren't hitting me much, but when they did, they'd hit me in the back or stomach so grown-ups wouldn't see the bruises. The rest of the time they just picked on me."

"Were you afraid to go to the principal?"

Noah nodded, "Yeah. I thought he'd get mad and suspend me again."

"Why didn't you come to me," Sharlotte asked. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"I was just afraid that…you'd go to the principal."

"I have to, Noah. This can't go on."

The little boy nodded again and looked up at his aunt, "And I wasn't mad at you, Aunt Sharlotte. I promise." He hugged her again then. "I just didn't want you to see me this way."

"I know, baby. I hate seeing you like this. I can't handle you being hurt." She looked at his face again and secretly seethed in anger. "Come on, let's go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up and doctored."

She led the boy into his bathroom, and grabbed the first-aid kit from the cabinet and laid out the things she needed to treat his cut and bruises.

"Should we let Mom know about all this," Noah asked as Sharlotte placed a peroxide-soaked cotton ball to his lip and gently dabbed at the cut.

She sighed, "I may be making a bad decision, but my gut is telling me no. I think we should wait till tomorrow sometime. Which reminds me…you will have to be completely quiet in the morning when your mom comes in. She'll go directly to bed, but still, you'll have to be very quiet."

Noah nodded, "I will."

Sharlotte smiled softly, and kissed his forehead, "I think you're good to go. Try not to worry about all of this, okay, Noah? I'll take care of it."

"I know," Noah managed a small smile in return, and then returned to his room to work on his homework.

_God please help me to not let him down, _Sharlotte prayed as she put away the first-aid kit.

Her Christian faith was a strong one, but she did have her weak moments when she'd worry. Especially where her loved ones were concerned.

Sharlotte went down stairs then and picked up the phone to order out for pizza. Only minutes after she had hung up the phone, her cell phone rang in her pocket. Looking at the Caller ID, she realized she did not recall seeing the phone number before. Quickly, she accepted the call and answered it while she set the table with plates and silverware.

"Hello?"

It was unmistakably John Cena's voice which greeted her.

"_Hi_, _Sharlotte_."


	7. Chapter 7

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers: **I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

**Chapter Warning:** There's some mild sexual references but nothing really bad. I felt the need to leave the references in to show how Sharlotte's beliefs differ from Cena's. Because their differences will of course be the source of some of the drama in this story. Just felt the need to explain that. :)

_**Chapter Seven**_

John sat down on a locker room bench as a female voice answered his call.

"Hi, Sharlotte."

At the dead silence, he thought he may have dialed Sharlotte's number incorrectly.

"Have I got the right number," he asked, getting prepared to hang up.

Suddenly, he heard the female stammering over the phone and smiled, realizing he was finally hearing Sharlotte's voice after all. He liked it. It was soft and feminine. It matched her picture perfectly.

"_Cen-Cena_?…_I-I mean_…John _Cena_?..._I'm sorry_," she cleared her throat. "_I'm just really_…"

John chuckled and tried to put her at ease, "'John' works just fine. Did I catch you off guard?"

Finally she managed to speak without stuttering.

"_Just a little_. _I didn't think you'd be calling till later_. _But I'm glad you did_," she added quickly.

"So am I," John said, smiling. He tucked the phone between his face and shoulder, and drew his knee up so he could tie the laces on his shoe. "Did I interrupt your cooking or anything?"

"_No_…_I decided to order out_. _Noah_—_my nephew_—_he had a situation at school today and by the time I finished having a talk with him, it was too late to plan and cook a meal_."

"Uh, oh," John said, setting foot back down. "Did he get into some trouble?"

"_No_. _He was in trouble a few weeks back and it will not happen again_," Sharlotte replied with a sigh. "_He's being bullied. And the lousy principal is not only useless, but unfair_."

"Should I give the principal a call," John asked her. "There's being a huge stand taken against bullying now. WWE's affiliation with B.A. Star could be very persuasive."

"_No, that's all right. I don't want to do something that could potentially spotlight Noah in the news or something. He's very self-conscious right now_," Sharlotte explained. "_But thank you so much for the offer. That's very kind of you_."

"Well, the offer stands. If you decide you need some help, let me know. I'll take care of it."

"_Okay, I will_," Sharlotte said. "_For now, I'm going to try to get through to the principal again, and get Noah a cell phone to call me with, if he needs to_."

"Is the kiddo doing okay," John asked. "I hate to hear about bullying. So senseless."

"_I know_," Sharlotte agreed. "_I was bullied some too when I was a kid. Mainly for…for my…hobby. And as for Noah…he's _going_ to be okay. I'm determined of that_."

"What happened to his parents? If you don't mind my asking."

"_Well, he never knew his father. His mother_—_my sister_—_is a nurse and works horrible hours. We all live together, so I've helped raise him_."

"Wow," John replied. "You become even more amazing the more I learn of you."

"_Oh, I'm not amazing_," Sharlotte chuckled. "_I only did what anyone would do for family_. _You_…You're _amazing. I wish I could do even just half the good you've done_."

John smiled, and felt his face heat up. "Well, thank you, even though—like you—I wouldn't agree that I'm amazing. I've just been blessed, so I try to give back some of those blessings. And I'm glad there are people in the world like you that want to do some good. I'm a strong believer that everyone should do what they can and help as many people as they can. And as long as I've got the ability, I'm gonna spend my life doing just that."

"_I'm glad_," he heard Sharlotte say softly. "_All those children you grant wishes too…it's so touching. You can really see that you've changed their lives_."

"I've never felt like that," John returned. "I feel like I should be able to do more for them. It's never feels like enough, ya know?"

"_Yes_. _I do_."

He heard a doorbell chime over the phone then, and realized he needed to hang up and let Sharlotte answer the door.

_And I need to run over my match anyway_, he thought.

Reluctantly, he spoke, "Well, I'd better get off here and let you answer the door."

"_Oh, okay_," Sharlotte said.

He smiled at the disappointment in her voice.

"Would it be okay to call you again after my match tonight?"

"_I'd like that_."

"So would I. Well, I'll talk to you later then. Bye, Sharlotte."

"_Goodbye_. _John_?"

"Yeah?"

"_Have a safe match_."

He smiled yet again, "Thanks. I will. Don't worry about me. Later." Still smiling, he disconnected, and stood to his feet, preparing to warm up and practice for his match.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte's heart rate had still not slowed down by the time she had taken the pizza from the delivery man, and sat it on the table. Her hands trembled as she poured a glass of water for herself, and apple juice for Noah.

"Did that really just happen," she wondered out loud. "I really just had a conversation on the phone, with John Cena?"

Shaking her head in disbelief, she headed upstairs and called Noah down for supper.

They ate quietly, despite Sharlotte's attempts to liven the child up. Finally, she took a deep breath, knowing that her next words were going to cost her in the near future.

"How about you and I watch TNA on Thursday night," she asked him.

His gaze shot up to hers, "Did Mom change her mind? Is she going to let me have my TV back in my room?"

Sharlotte sighed and avoided Noah's gaze, "No, Noah. She hasn't and she isn't. But _I_ am. I'm tired of standing by and doing nothing when I know she's wrong."

"Are you going to tell her I've been watching it on my computer?"

"No, I'm not. And you shouldn't either, okay? It's one thing to stand up to her, but to let her know we were going behind her back is another."

Noah nodded, "I won't tell her." He took another bite of pizza and thought as he chewed. "How are you going to tell her you're going to let me watch wrestling," he finally asked.

Sharlotte sighed and smiled nervously at him, "No idea. I think I'm just going to let her see us watching together, and wing it from there."

"She'll be mad when she finds out."

She nodded, "I know. But I'm afraid she'll be mad no matter how I broach the subject."

"Do you think she'll let me?"

"There's not a whole lot she can do about it. She's asleep till almost time for the shows to go off the air, and I'm not going to keep you from watching." She looked at Noah then. "She has a strange hatred for wrestling, Noah. That's her problem, not ours. She's not once told me why she hates it so much, and I'm tired of wondering."

"Me too."

They continued eating their supper till the phone rang, and then Sharlotte jumped up to answer it before it could wake Julie up.

"Hello?"

"_Yes, can I speak with Julie Taylor_?"

"She's sleeping right now. Can I take a message?"

"_Well, sort of. I'm sorry, this is Shonda, at Tallahassee Memorial. I'm the charge nurse for the second shift, but I have to leave early for a family emergency. Can you wake Julie up and ask her to the phone_? _I really need her to come in early_."

Inwardly, Sharlotte groaned.

_Julie hasn't even gotten to sleep but a few short hours. _

But she knew it wasn't her place to interfere, so she answered politely, "Yes. Give me a moment."

With that, she headed up the stairs and entered Julie's darkened room.

"Julie," she called softly, approaching the bed. "Jules? Wake up, sis." She nudged her sister gently and woke her. At hearing a tired groan, she spoke softly, "Julie, there's a Shonda on the phone for you from the hospital."

"Okay," her sister said, beginning to sit up. "Thanks."

Sharlotte left the room after Julie took the phone from her and greeted Shonda sleepily. Heading down stairs to finish her meal, she met Noah at the foot of the staircase.

"Did you finish eating already," she asked him.

He nodded, "Yeah. I have a science test I need to study for. It's actually tomorrow, but I can make it up when I go back to school."

"Okay, well get to studying," Sharlotte smile and ruffled his hair. "After I clean the kitchen up I'll be in my room if you need help or anything."

"Okay. If I don't see you anymore tonight, goodnight, Aunt Sharlotte. I love you."

Sharlotte smiled as Noah leaned into her and hugged her close. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back.

"I love you too, kiddo. Very much. Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"I won't."

She watched as Noah continued up the stairs, and then she headed back into the kitchen and finished eating. Her thoughts immediately shifted to the phone call from John Cena which she would be receiving later. Her face flamed as she thought over the first call.

_I still can't believe it_, she thought, bewildered. _I must be dreaming_.

But she knew she wasn't. John Cena really had called her and spoke with her as if she wasn't just a fan. She stood, and began clearing the table of dishes, and left the remaining pizza on the table, figuring Julie would need to eat a bite of dinner before she left. Just as she finished the thought, Julie jogged down the stairs dressed in her scrubs, darting into the hallway and returning immediately with her purse.

"Bye Sharlotte. I'll be back in the morning."

"Julie, shouldn't you eat something before you go?"

"No time. I'll grab a burger or something I can eat on the way. Good night."

"Good night," Sharlotte called as the door slammed.

Shaking her head, she began grabbing the dishes out of the sink and loading them into the dishwasher. She knew Julie needed to slow down, but she had no idea how to make her sister see the error of her ways.

"One day, she's going to see Noah as a grown man, and then she's gonna wonder how it happened so fast," she muttered, turning the dials on the dishwasher and starting the wash cycle. Then, grabbing her cell phone off the counter top, she headed outside to the large porch and stretched out on the porch swing. She listened to the crickets chirping and smiled. She loved the seclusion of their home. It lacked the wild traffic a lot of the other cities had, and she was grateful for the fact. She liked peace and quiet when she was at home. Content, she smiled and didn't realize she was dozing off till her cell phone rang in her hand. Jumping awake instantly, she noticed the time on the phone and couldn't believe it.

"I've been here for an hour," she gasped. Then, at taking note of the phone number on the Caller ID, she realized it was John calling her and she quickly answered the phone. "Hi!"

"_Well, 'hi' yourself_," she heard John chuckle. "_You sound pretty happy. Something good happen_?"

Sharlotte took a deep breath and for the first time in her life, dared to say exactly what was on her mind.

"Well, yeah," she admitted, smiling. "I woke up to a phone call I was really looking forward to."

"_Ah, well what a coincidence_," John teased her back. "_I just made a phone call I was really looking forward to. Though I feel badly for waking the recipient up_."

"Well, don't feel badly. I know for a fact she enjoys hearing from you."

"_Oh, really_?"

She heard a smile in John's voice.

"_Well, I like talking to her_. _She's real, and she doesn't just try to impress me._"

Sharlotte felt her face burn, and had no idea what to say.

"_Anyway, all joking aside, I really do enjoy our conversations_. _Both on Twitter and on the phone_."

"So do I," Sharlotte said, just as her neighbor from down the road drove by, returning home.

"_I just heard a car_…_and you said I woke you up. Please tell me you were not asleep outside by yourself, woman_. _Especially at night_."

"Just on my porch," Sharlotte answered, inwardly sighing dreamily at his concern. "As a rule I don't do that. I promise."

"_You better not_," John threatened jokingly. "_You wouldn't like it if I came there to give you a good talking to_."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Sharlotte laughed, fiddling with her French braid. Even with the intricate plaiting, her hair still reached midway down her back.

"_Hmmm_…_I'll have to remember that_."

"Promises, promises," she sighed melodramatically, and earned a full-fledged laugh in her ear.

"_Where do you live anyway_," John asked, turning serious.

"I'm in Tallahassee. Kind of out in the country," Sharlotte replied, kicking off her flip-flops and stretching out on her back on the large porch swing. "There's a few ranches around here. My nearest neighbor is about a mile down the road."

"_Wow, I didn't realize you were in Florida_," John commented. "_You're only about four hours away_."

"It's a small world," Sharlotte agreed. "You're from Massachusetts, but live in Florida…how do you like Florida?"

"_I like it really well_," John said. "_Of course I have times when I miss West Newbury and Boston, but for the most part I love Florida_."

"Did you move for business reasons?"

"_Yeah, pretty much. I sometimes fill in and help train newcomers at FCW, so it just made things a lot easier on my schedule in the long run to move to Tampa_."

Sharlotte heard a doorbell ring loudly on John's side of the call.

John sighed, "_Doesn't look like it's a good day for a long conversation, huh_? _Can you hang on for a second_? _I'll try to get rid of whoever it is, if it's not important_."

"No problem."

"_Okay, back in a minute_."

The phone was laid down and she heard as he opened the door and greeted someone gruffly, "_What are you doing here_?"

A female voice growled back, "_Trying to reach you on your phone. Who have you been talking to_? _Your little internet tramp_?"

Sharlotte pulled the phone from ear and glared down at it.

"Oh, you'll pay for that one if I ever see you in person," she thought out loud.

Putting the phone back to her ear, she heard John addressing his wife.

"_Yes, Amy, I've been on the phone with her all day long. You just interrupted our fourth round of phone sex. Now can you leave so we can finish it and get onto our fifth_?"

Sharlotte gasped in horror at hearing what John had more than implied. She detected the thick note of sarcasm in Cena's voice easily enough, but apparently Amy was more gullible. She listened as John's wife fired back at him.

"Oh, four times, huh? You never could go that long when _we_ were together."

"Well, maybe I've found someone who knows what she's doing—someone who doesn't just see to her own needs."

Sharlotte could feel her face literally burning like fire, "John, _please_ stop," she whispered. She could tell he was only trying to anger Amy, but she had her reputation to protect.

When Sharlotte became a born again Christian, she made a decision to abstain from premarital sex out of respect for the Bible and for God so she hated for John to make such risqué comments about her.

_I need to find a way to let him know about my beliefs and ask him not to talk about me in such a way, but_—

She heard the unmistakable smack of a slap then, and gasped at the harsh sound.

There was a long pause, and then John's voice spoke up.

"_That one's a freebee. The next one will cost you_."

"_What_? _Are you going to hit me, John_?

"_No. I'd never hit a woman, and you know that. But I think you're forgetting, I have dirt on you. And I have PROOF of said dirt. If you do not leave me alone, I'll use it. If you even attempt to run Sharlotte's name through the mud, I'll use it. And you are not going to fight the divorce. I'll give you a sum of money in exchange for your total cooperation, just for the simple fact that I want our ties severed, and as soon as possible. And I also want you to go back to your maiden name. I do not want you to use my name any longer, once the divorce is final. __Do we have a deal, or do I need to produce the video of you doing everything BUT _sleeping_ with another man in my bed_?"

Sharlotte heard a female scream of rage followed by the breaking of glass.

"Oh, my God!…John! Are you okay," she shouted in the hopes that John would hear her.

She heard Amy yelling in anger, and then heavy footsteps.

"John! Please, answer me!"

In the next instant, there was a rustling sound as the phone was evidently picked up.

"_Sharlotte_? _I'm sorry, sweetie. Yes, I'm fine. Just my psycho ex-wife doing what she does best_."

"_Oh, what does she care how you are_? _And I'm not your ex-wife, yet_," Sharlotte heard Amy yell angrily.

John cursed then, "_Amy, just shut up_!"

Still reeling from the term of endearment John called her, Sharlotte's temper still managed to ignite. She spoke calmly, "John, could you put me on speaker phone, please?"

She could have sworn she heard him chuckle, "_Sure thing_."

Giving him a second to change the phone to speaker, she then spoke distinctly, "Now, you listen to me, you pathetic, alkie party girl. Just because _you_ didn't grasp what a great catch you had, doesn't mean another woman doesn't see John Cena for the great person he is. Face it—you lost. And you lost _badly_."

"_You tramp_!"

Sharlotte forced a laugh even though she was seething.

"John was being sarcastic about the phone sex, genius. You'd know that if you weren't in a drunken stooper all the time. Why don't you try substituting a book for a drink once in a while? It would probably do wonders for you."

"_I'd love to see you face to face, you little_-" Amy growled.

"_You won't lay a hand on her_," Sharlotte heard John cut her off. "_I'll see to that_. _Now_, s_ince you have no right to be here anymore, you're free to leave. Call me when you've thought about my offer. Bye, Amy_."

There was some loud stomping, and then the slamming of a door.

John spoke to her then, "So sorry about that. I don't know what it will take to get through to her that we're over."

"I'm sorry if I was out of line with some of the things I said to her," Sharlotte said softly. "I just couldn't sit here and say nothing. Are you sure you're okay? It sounded like she totally went nuts."

"_I'm fine, Sharlotte. I promise. She only slapped me and then threw a tantrum—along with a vase. But thank you for your concern, and for jumping to my defense._"

"No need to thank me, I'm just glad you're okay. The glass breaking freaked me out. I had no idea what was going on."

"_I'm sorry she scared you_," John said. "_I meant to be rid of her before it got out of hand, but she has a way of really testing my patience_."

"I can understand why," Sharlotte chuckled.

"_Well, I think we've had enough excitement for the day. I should get a work-out in before bed. How about we both get some rest and talk again tomorrow_?"

"Really?"

"_Yeah. Why not_?"

"Well, _I_ can't think of a reason why not," Sharlotte smiled, "I just didn't know you'd want to call again. At least not so soon."

"_Well, I do. You make me forget about some of the bad stuff going on in my life right now_."

"How do I do that?"

"_You…well…you just…bring a genuine smile out of me. I smile on TV and stuff, I know, but it's just…not been the same for a long time. I haven't actually FELT a smile since shortly after I married Amy. Not till I started talking to you_."

"John…" Sharlotte was taken aback. "All I did was send you a tweet. That's nothing anyone else couldn't have done. If you're happy now, it's because of yourself. You gained the courage to do what needed to be done."

"_When you sent that first tweet, did you have the intentions of helping me feel better_?"

Sharlotte was quiet for a moment.

"Yes," she admitted quietly. "I didn't _expect_ it to. I didn't even expect you'd see it due to all the tweets you must receive, but I really _hoped_ you would see it, and I really hoped if you did, it would give you some comfort."

"_Well, I _did_ see it, and it _did_ give comfort. And yeah, anyone else could have sent it, sure. But they didn't. _You_ did_."

He had her there, she had to admit.

"_Ya still there_?"

"Yes. I'm trying to think up a suitable and logical argument so I can rest my case."

She heard him laugh, and couldn't help laughing herself.

"_How about we both rest our cases, and talk tomorrow_," John joked.

"I'd love to hear from you again," Sharlotte said smiling. "As long as Amy doesn't make any more surprise visits while we're talking. I don't really want a heart attack at the age of thirty."

She heard John chuckle again, "_Deal. Now get yourself in the house, woman. No more falling asleep out there_!"

"No more, I promise."

"_Good. Sweet dreams, Sharlotte_."

"Sweet dreams."

She disconnected the call, and smiled.

"And there _will_ be sweet dreams now, I'm sure," she giggled to herself.

She stood to her feet then and entered her house, locking the door behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers: **I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

_**Chapter Eight**_

"Principal Jones, I'm going to make myself very clear," Sharlotte spoke distinctly into the phone the next morning as she slipped on her sneakers. "I'm tired of this. Noah came home with a second black eye and scratches on his face. He informed me that he's been verbally bullied non-stop since after his suspension, and he also told me the bullies have been hitting him in places clothes will hide so adults won't see the bruises. And Noah's too scared to tell _you_ about it because he doesn't want to get suspended again."

"_Well, Miss Taylor, I'm terribly sorry. I really am. But if Noah doesn't come to me with these issues, I have no idea when and if it's happening. Therefore, I can't really do anything_." "Did you not hear me? He didn't come to you because he's sure you'd suspend him again! This is _your_ fault, not his!"

"_Please inform Noah that in the future he should come to me. Nothing can be done if he doesn't keep me informed_."

Afraid she was about to say a few things she shouldn't, Sharlotte fought to check her temper.

"Oh, something can be done all right," her tone became venomous. "If you don't take care of the situation, I'll go public with it."

"_Meaning_?"

Sharlotte smiled when she heard the slight sound of worry in his tone, "Have you heard of the _Be A Star_ alliance?"

"_I'm sorry…The what_?"

"The _Be A Star_ alliance. It's an anti-bullying campaign co-founded by The Creative coalition and World Wrestling Entertainment Incorporated. And I happen to know someone who's very involved in the organization. He's already told me all I'll have to do is ask for his help. I'd hate to put Noah in the media's spotlight when he's so self-conscious, but I will if I have to. Mark my words."

"_Now, Miss Taylor, there's no need for all of that. I'm sure we can get the matter under control_."

"Yes, you're right about that," Sharlotte said, a definite threat in her words. "If I see my nephew come home with one more bruise, I'll take any and all legal action I can—against the school, as well as the bully's parents." She kept talking, leaving the principal no room to argue. "Now, I'm taking Noah to the doctor today to get him checked over. If I discover he has any broken bones, sprains, or any debilitating injuries, I will go ahead and file a lawsuit."

"_Will he be in for any of his classes today_," the principal asked warily.

"No," Sharlotte answered without hesitation. "He won't. He's earned one day without any problems. I also need you to excuse his absences from yesterday. Goodbye Mr. Jones."

With that, she disconnected the call and looked in the mirror above her vanity and took a last glance at her forest green baby doll tee shirt and faded jeans. Quickly, she brushed her long golden hair and secured it into a low, side pony-tail that draped heavily over her shoulder. Then she headed across the hall to Noah's room to make sure he was ready to leave. She lightly knocked on the door and he opened it a second later, careful to stay quiet and not wake his mother.

"Ready," Sharlotte asked in a whisper. At his nod, they quietly headed down the stairs and out the front door. Even though Julie's room was further down the hall, they didn't want to wake her and slam her with Noah's newest troubles when she'd only been asleep less than two hours. Seconds later, they were in Sharlotte's car and fastening their seatbelts.

"So what did Mr. Jones say," Noah asked, glancing over at his aunt.

"Not much," Sharlotte answered honestly. She stared the car and elaborated. "He says you need to go to him when the bullies attack you. Duh. You would if you were able to trust him. Ignorant man." Pulling out into the street, she had the strongest urge to tell him about the _Be A Star_ alliance being a possibility in aiding him. But to do that, she would have to tell him about her conversations with John Cena. And she didn't know if he'd be able to keep it quiet. Still, the temptation to ease his worries outweighed the risk of _her_ worries.

_And since John made it clear he didn't mind my talking about our conversations anyway_…

In the next few minutes, she was pulling into McDonald's and parked the car. She killed the engine, and upon seeing the heartbreaking look of dejection on his face, she decided she'd tell him.

A short while later, they were sitting down at a corner booth with their breakfast, and after asking a blessing over their meal, Sharlotte scooped up a spoonful of her oatmeal.

"Noah, I don't want you to worry, okay?"

Her nephew nodded, but did not look convinced as he took a bite of his hash browns. His blue eyes were dull and circled with dark shadows underneath them.

"I promise, it'll be okay. I need to tell you how I know, but I need you to promise me something first."

"Okay," Noah said softly, "What is it?"

"I need you to promise you will not tell one soul what I'm about to tell you. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," Noah nodded, "I promise."

"I've been talking to John Cena on Twitter, and on the phone."

"WHAT?!"

"Shhh!" Sharlotte couldn't help laughing as she covered his mouth, "I know how that sounds. I still can't believe it myself. I think we have become friends. That sounds even crazier doesn't it?"

"No, not crazy. Just…Wow…"

Sharlotte laughed again, "I know. Anyway, I talked about your bullying situation a little bit, and he told me if we needed his help, to let him know and he'd talk to the principal and get the _Be A Star_ alliance involved. So, I threatened Mr. Jones with it, and I think I've gotten through to him now. But if you still have problems, do not hesitate to tell me, okay?"

"John Cena will help me," Noah asked in amazement. For the first time in what seemed like forever, his eyes lit up with life again.

Sharlotte smiled and nodded, "Yes. He promised."

Noah smiled from ear to ear, "I can't believe it!"

"Me either," Sharlotte grinned. "Eat your breakfast, and we'll go get your cell phone. Then we'll be off to your doctor's appointment."

"Are you sure it'll be okay with the school to have a cell phone? And with Mom?"

"It'll be fine. Don't worry. And for now, don't say anything about it to anyone. Okay? If there's any heat for it from anybody, I'll step into the fire for ya, got it?"

Noah nodded and bit into his Egg, Ham and Cheese McMuffin. When he swallowed the bite of food, he looked up at his aunt.

"Thank you, Aunt Sharlotte," he said softly. "For everything."

"Oh, you," Sharlotte smiled and leaned over, kissing the top of his head. "You're welcome. I'd do anything for you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Noah smiled his brightest smile and hugged her. "And I'd do anything for you, too."

"I know you would, kiddo. Now, eat up."

For the next few minutes they finished their breakfast, then left and headed for the cell phone store.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Remember, the sales people will try to sale us a really elaborate phone, but I can only afford a basic one, so don't get all excited when they pull out an iPhone, okay," Sharlotte cautioned Noah as they entered the cell phone store. She immediately saw a sales lady heading toward them.

"Okay," Noah agreed. "I'm fine with just a tracfone, really."

"Well, I can do a bit better than that," Sharlotte smiled as they neared the sales woman. "I want to be sure you have a reliable phone and plan."

"Hello, I'm Susan," greeted the slightly older brunette sales woman as she indicated her name tag. "How can I help you today?"

Sharlotte put her hand on Noah's shoulder, "We need a somewhat basic cell phone for my nephew to use in an emergency, in the price range of about fifty to a hundred dollars."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like something a bit more…_state-of-the-art_," Susan chuckled almost condescendingly.

Sharlotte was prepared for the snobby attitude and returned the rude behavior with a fake smile, "Yes, I'm _very_ sure. I am on a meager budget and I believe the newest iPhone is extremely out of my league. I'm thinking a Quickfire."

"Yes, ma'am," Susan replied, her face flushing slightly at being put in her place. "I believe I have some Quickfires in the back. Give me a moment." She then went through a door and disappeared.

_Ding-Ding-Ding_!

Sharlotte jumped as her phone alerted her to a text from John. Quickly, she fished the phone out of her purse and read the text message.

"_At work?_"

Smiling, she texted him back.

"_Nope. Call me if you want. :-)"_

A few seconds later, her phone rang. She couldn't help the quick little giggle which escaped her lips as she pushed the button to answer the call.

Noah gave her a funny look.

"Hi!"

"_Hi, beautiful_," she heard him say. "_What are you up to_?"

She nearly gasped at his calling her "beautiful", but quickly decided he probably called _all_ of his female friends some similar name like that. "Helping my nephew play hooky, and getting him a cell phone. What about you?"

"_Not much going on right now. Just about to go for a run, but wanted to hear your voice first_."

"Really?"

"_Yeah. Really." _Sharlotte could hear a smile in his voice. "_I was also wondering…Do you use Skype_?"

Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of actually seeing John as she spoke with him. "Y-yeah…I do sometimes."

"How about we add each other as contacts, and we could actually see each other when we talk?"

"I'd…I'd _love_ that," Sharlotte smiled happily as she glanced over at Noah. He had a strange look on his face, as if he was wondering why she looked and sounded so giddy.

"_Great. So would I_," John told her. "_I'll DM my ID to you later on Twitter_."

"Okay, and I'll send you mine."

"_Looking forward to it_."

"Me too," Sharlotte smiled dreamily and nervously fiddled with her watch.

"_Okay, well I'd better go. Talk to you later_."

"Okay, talk to you later," Sharlotte agreed, as she saw Susan returning from the stock room. She disconnected the call and turned her attention back to the sales lady.

"Here we are," Susan said, setting a few different colors of the Quickfires on her counter. "Do you like a particular color, hon," she asked Noah.

"I like the green," Noah said, pointing at one of the phones designed in green camouflage.

"Okay, now that _that_'_s_ settled, let's figure out a phone plan," Sharlotte said, ruffling Noah's brown hair.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Okay, Noah," Dr. Chandler said, after looking through the boy's x-rays, "I see no fractures of any kind, and no signs of concussion. Just some bad bruising. I recommend getting some rest today, and using Tylenol for any pain."

"So he's okay," Sharlotte asked with relief. She had worried the boy would have some sort of fracture or head injury.

"He's absolutely fine," Doctor Chandler smiled. "Will you need a note to take to his principal?"

"Yes, please," Sharlotte answered. "And can I pick up a copy of the x-rays and record of this visit?"

"Yes, of course," the doctor replied. "Is it for your own records, or for legal action?"

"For now, just my own records. I'm hoping it won't come to my needing to take legal action."

"Well, if it does, I'll be happy to get involved. I can attest to Noah's bruising, and I'm of course willing to testify on his behalf should I need to."

"Thank you so much, Doctor Chandler. I really appreciate this," Sharlotte smiled kindly as she patted Noah on the back. "I'm so glad he's okay and that he wasn't seriously injured."

The doctor returned her smile and began washing his hands at the examination room's little sink. "I'm happy to help. If you have any more problems be sure and bring him here and let me check him over." Sharlotte nodded and he added, "You should be able to pick up the copy of the x-rays and visit record in a couple days. Other than that, you two are good to go."

"Alright, thanks again," Sharlotte said, standing and picking up her handbag.

"No problem at all. Bye, Noah. Take care, Sharlotte."

"Bye, Doctor Chandler," Noah smiled and left the room behind his aunt.

As they headed out to the car, Sharlotte proposed they eat lunch since the x-rays had taken a while to get developed and read. A short while later, they were seated at Noah's favorite pizza parlor and sharing a medium pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.

"Today was so much fun," Noah said, smiling. "I wasn't happy about going to see the doctor, but the appointment wasn't bad at all," he bit off another piece of his pizza and continued. "It's so nice having a day free of bullies."

Sharlotte swallowed past some tears, and stroked Noah's hair back. "I'm glad you've had fun. I did too. And I'm glad you've not worried today. I just wish I could make all your problems go away with a snap of my fingers. But even though I can't, I will work hard to make the bullying stop. I promise."

Noah nodded, "I know. Don't worry, Aunt Sharlotte. I'll be okay."

Sharlotte smiled warmly, "I know you will. You're a strong kid. Stronger than you know." She forced a bravery in her words she did not feel. She loved her nephew more than life itself, but there was only so strong an eleven-year-old could be. She couldn't shake the fear she was next to powerless in his battle.

They finished their lunch, and—spur of the moment—Sharlotte decided to stop at the mall and to buy Noah the newest WWE video game. She knew he'd been dying to play it since he first saw the advertisement on television, but they didn't have the funds for such frivolous purchases.

_Except_, Sharlotte thought, _the little bit of money I was saving for that dress I wanted._

The dress was a beauty too. It was ankle-length, and had different shades of red swirling throughout the silky material. The front had a keyhole neckline and the back had crisscrossed straps. What Sharlotte liked most about the garment was, it could be a casual dress for work if donned with a feminine blazer or bolero, and it could also be a great holiday party dress.

_But, I can always save up for it again, _she thought, _or even decide on another dress if I have to._ _Noah needs a little spoiling. He's had it so rough for the past few weeks._

Wordlessly, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the mall.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Tired, though happy she was able to give Noah just one good day, Sharlotte unlocked the front door and they both entered the house quietly. It felt as though they'd been gone all day long, but it was only 1:30 in the afternoon.

"Be sure and keep the volume down on the game for now," Sharlotte said quietly as they both headed for the stairs. "I know we're taking a stand on the wrestling but I don't think it would be wise to wake her up to a wrestling video game just yet."

"Okay. Thanks so much, Aunt Sharlotte," the boy exclaimed, hugging her tightly. "I can't believe you bought it for me! It's not even my birthday!"

Sharlotte chuckled and returned his hug, "Well, what are aunts for if not for spoiling?" At his smile, she ruffled his hair, "Go on and play your game. Enjoy!"

With that, Noah hurried up the stairs and headed into his room. Sharlotte too, headed up to her room to check if John had messaged her yet. She booted up her laptop before she pulled off her shoes and opted for a light pair of flip flops. Then she was sitting at her desk and logging on to Twitter. Sure enough, John had sent her a direct message with his Skype ID about an hour earlier. Quickly, she logged into her account and typed his ID into the "Add A Contact" box, and sent him a contact request. She had pulled up Facebook in a new tab when she got an alert that John had accepted her request. Then the next thing she knew a Skype window popped up and John was greeting her.

"Hey gorgeous!"

She felt her face burning and managed a shy smile, trying to hide the fact that she was a nervous wreck.

"Hey you," she greeted back. "How are you?"

"Doing great," John answered, smiling ear to ear. "And I'm glad I finally get to actually see you rather than just a photo."

"Well, I'm glad to see you _and_ talk with you at the same time," Sharlotte said happily. "You're a sweetheart and I've really enjoyed our talks."

"So have I, Sharlotte," John returned with a flash of his dimples. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he was blushing. "You've really helped me by just being there for me." He bashfully glanced downward and then continued, "I never thought when I tweeted you back for the first time, you'd be anything more than a fan just trying to show your support for me." His eyes met hers through the webcam then. "But you're a lot more than that. You've been a friend. You really have. A lot of the people I've been friends with for years haven't really asked me how I've been doing for quite a while. Randy's about the only one who's cared. And then I meet you online and have only known you for a couple days and you've shown more concern than most of the people I call my friends."

"I'm so sorry," Sharlotte said softly. "That must have made you feel so alone."

"A little bit, yeah," John admitted. "I didn't let my feelings be known, though. I've always tried to keep my private life private, and I tried not to discuss personal problems, but Randy really tried to get me to open up one night. When I did…"

"I think I can figure out what happened," Sharlotte said. "You confided to Randy, and were overheard by someone who gossiped about your problems, and word got back to Dwayne Johnson who decided to use it against you in his promos."

John froze for an instant, and Sharlotte thought either Skype spazzed out, or she was out of line.

"I'm sorry," she said worriedly. "I didn't mean to bring up a bad situation with a co-worker. I just felt-"

John shook his head, "No, Sharlotte. Don't be sorry. I'm not mad or upset. I'm just amazed. You totally…you hit the nail on the head. Only it wasn't that someone gossiped and the information got back to Dwayne. Dwayne is actually the one who overheard it."

"Oh, wow," Sharlotte replied, shaking her head. "So, was he spying? Or did he just sort of hear by accident?"

"Eh, I'm not sure. I didn't mind so much that he'd heard. It was the fact he decided to work it into his promos for the whole world to hear. I mean, no one really knew I was having marital problems, so they probably just took it that Dwayne was only cracking jokes. But then when news of my divorce came out, and while I don't usually care what people think…"

"You didn't want to look like a cheater," Sharlotte interjected.

"Exactly," John nodded. "People can say what they want about my gimmick, wrestling skills or my acting. And I don't let it bother me. But at the end of the day I hate being portrayed as something I'm not."

"Well, for the record, you've never struck me as the cheating type," Sharlotte said. "I sort of felt like…" She halted suddenly, not wanting to insult the woman whom John had loved at one time.

"What? What is it," John asked.

Sharlotte shook her head, "I can't. It's none of my business."

"Okay, now you know you can't say something like that, and then expect me to forget it, right?"

She slumped, "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Fair enough. Hit me with it."

"I just… some of the photos I've seen of your ex-wife…I always kind of had the feeling _she_ would be more likely to cheat, than you."

To her surprise, a smile threatened to spread across John's handsome face.

"Okay, I didn't expect that response," Sharlotte chuckled nervously.

John shrugged slightly, "I like your honesty."

He looked as though he wanted to add more to his statement, but he apparently lost his nerve. Before she could coax him to talk more about it, there was a knock at her door.

"Yeah," she called out.

"Aunt Sharlotte…Can I come in," came the reply. "I wanted to tell you about the game!"

Sharlotte smiled and looked back at John, "Would you like to meet my nephew?"

John grinned back, "I'd love to."

Sharlotte's smile broadened and she told Noah to come in. A second later, her bedroom door opened, and Noah stepped inside.

"Come here, kiddo," Sharlotte said, "There's someone I want you to meet."

Puzzled, Noah approached her, and looked at the screen on her laptop.

"Oh, wow! John Cena!"

John laughed and gave Noah a salute, "Hi, Noah. I've heard quite a bit about you."

"You have?"

"Yep. I hear you're quite the wrestling fan, and I also heard you're a great kid."

Noah looked over at Sharlotte and grinned from ear to ear, then returned his gaze to John. "I've watched wrestling for as long as I can remember," he said. "You're my favorite!"

"Well, thank you Noah," John said, "I'm truly blessed to have fans like you."

Noah started to reply when the land line phone in Sharlotte's room rang.

"Shoot, I need to get that before it wakes Julie. Back in a minute," she told John. Then she hurried to her bed-side table and picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"_If you file a lawsuit_, _expect to pay the consequences_,_" _came a rasped threat.

"What? Who is this," Sharlotte asked, her voice trembling. What with having a great day with her nephew, she wasn't prepared for the sudden turn of events. She was aware of Noah and John's chatter hushing to silence, and she knew they'd caught the nervousness in her voice.

"_You'll find out who I am soon enough, if you cause any more trouble."_

"Leave me alone," Sharlotte said firmly and hung up before giving the caller a chance to reply. Then, trying to hide her apprehension she sat back down at her desk and glanced over at her nephew, "Noah, I need you to go play your game or watch TV, okay? I need to talk to John in private."

"Is everything okay, Aunt Sharlotte," the boy asked.

She nodded and patted his head, "Everything's fine. It's just a wrong number, don't worry. And try not to wake your mom, okay?"

Noah nodded and looked regretfully back at John, "Bye, John. It was awesome to meet you!"

John smiled back at him and waved, though Sharlotte caught the concern on his face a split second before. "It was awesome to meet you too, kiddo. How about we talk again soon?"

"All right! That'd be great!" Excited, he reached over and kissed Sharlotte's cheek. "This has been the best day ever!"

Sharlotte hugged him close and kissed the top of his head, "I'm glad, baby. I'm really glad."

Noah turned and left the room then, and Sharlotte faced John once the door closed behind her nephew.

"What's happened?"

John's face was now devoid of any humor or light-heartedness. He seemed to be able to read her as well as she read him.

Sharlotte hesitated, not sure she should lay it all on him when they'd only known each other for a couple days. But she didn't know what else to do.

"Sharlotte, come on," he insisted. "I confided in you and _trusted_ you, now it's your turn to trust _me_."

"I know, but it's just…I don't feel right burdening you with it."

"What are friends for," he countered. "I know we've not gotten to talk much and _really_ get to know stuff about each other, but we have a connection. And you know it. Now, I heard your side of the conversation. And I saw you on the phone. You looked scared…are you being threatened?"

Reluctantly, she nodded.

"And it's about Noah, isn't it?"

Again, she nodded.

"Tell me what the person said to you."

She took a deep breath and met his gaze.

"This morning, I threatened Noah's principle with a lawsuit against the school and the bullies' parents if he came home with one more bruise. And just now, a guy told me if I file a lawsuit I'd better be prepared to pay the consequences."

"You asked who he was…What did he say to that," John asked. His face was so intent she could have sworn he was filing the details away in a mental file cabinet.

Sharlotte rubbed her temples as she felt the beginnings of a bad headache, "He said I'd find out if I caused any more trouble."

"Okay," John nodded. "I'm going to call Stephanie McMahon. She's more involved with _Be A Star_ than Vince is, and I'm sure I can get her help and advice. I'm going to let her know what's going on, and we'll figure out how to approach this. Don't say another word to anyone about any legal action. No one, okay?"

Sharlotte nodded, "I won't."

"Good. Let whoever threatened you think they scared you off. Then, once we get this on the news and all over , they'll be highly unlikely to do anything because they'll be afraid of being caught."

Sharlotte nodded again, "Makes sense. Since they're being a coward in trying to frighten me, stands to reason they don't really want to do anything. They're hoping I'll back down."

"Right," John said. "So let them think you are. I'd call the principal myself, but that may just cause more trouble. I think you should lay as low as possible till we get a solution on the roll."

"Thanks," Sharlotte smiled softly. "Thanks for helping me not to panic."

"Don't worry," John smiled back. "It will be okay. Now you need to be prepared for interviews, and a lot of media coverage."

"I know. We can handle it."

"You've got a great nephew," John said, lightening the subject. "He loves you very much."

Sharlotte nodded happily, "Yes, and I love him very much in return. I hate that he's even got to go back to that horrible school. I wish he could go to a better one."

"Is there not another one he can attend?"

"There's another elementary school, but it's even more notorious for bullying. And next year he'll be in middle school. The place is a nightmare. And the high school is even worse, if you can believe it. There's a private school near here that I'd love for him to attend. It's a Christian school for grades K through twelve, and I've heard nothing but good things about it. It's an amazing school, but its cost is pretty amazing too."

"Yeah, I know. I went to a private boarding school for my high school years, and it was pretty pricey."

Sharlotte nodded, "It's a shame too. Though if it were free or even affordable, I suppose the private schools would be over-filled." She sighed softly, "Maybe if _Be A Star_ can do something, Noah won't have as hard a time at school though."

"Try not to worry, Sharlotte," John told her gently. "Just keep your chin up, and remember what you showed me: _And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us_."

Sharlotte smiled, "You memorized it!"

John nodded and flashed his dimples at her, "Yeah, I did. They were helpful words, and I want to remember them."

"I'm glad," she said softly. "They're wise words to live by."

John smiled and nodded in agreement, but then said regretfully, "I probably should get off here for a while and try getting a hold of Steph. Okay? I'll try to reach you later and let you know what I find out."

"Okay. Thank you so much, John. You don't know what this means to me. And to Noah."

"I'm glad to help in any way I can," he replied sincerely. "I'll talk to you after a while."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye sweetie."

Sharlotte closed out her Skype and sat for a moment, deep in thought.

"Dear Lord, please help me. I think I could fall in love with John Cena."

And she had a feeling nothing but heartache would come of that.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I have one more chapter completed that I need to edit/polish over, and then from Chapter 10 on will be new stuff! :) I want to start reworking Second Chances some too, so keep an eye out for that one if you are a Samoa Joe fan! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Rating:** R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
Pairing: John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers: **I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

_**Chapter Nine**_

John went through his contacts list on his cell phone, and highlighted Stephanie McMahon's number, tapping the "Call" icon. It rang only twice before his boss' daughter answered.

"_Stephanie McMahon_," came her authoritative voice.

"Steph, hey, it's Cena…Are you free to talk for a few minutes?"

"_Sure, John_. _Is something wrong_?"

"Well, yes, but not with me. I have a friend whose nephew is being bullied—_horribly_ bullied, actually. And since we're aligned with the Creative Coalition, I'm hoping we can do something to help make the situation better."

"_We certainly can try_," Stephanie said, her full attention now on the conversation.

Much of her time as of late was dedicated to publicizing the _Be A Star Alliance_. She had three daughters of her own, and she could only imagine how she would feel if one or all of them were being bullied. So, she tried to do her part in helping to eliminate bullying all together. "_Tell me more about what's going on. Who and where's this friend_? _Would they mind some media coverage_—_maybe some interviews_?"

"My friend's name is Sharlotte Taylor, and she's in Tallahassee," John said. "Her nephew's name is Noah Taylor. No, she wouldn't mind media coverage or interviews. I'd already asked her and she said it would be okay. She just wants her nephew to be left alone."

Stephanie sighed, "_Yes, I can only imagine. This bullying crap is so frustrating. How's the boy?_"

"He seems to be in pretty good spirits despite everything going on. But I saw him on webcam today and I could actually see he had a black eye, and some other bruises and cuts on his face too."

"_Oh, my God_," Stephanie said. "_That_ _sounds_ really _bad_. _Please tell your friend when you speak to her next, that we'll help her get a good attorney should she need to take legal action. She'd need great representation_."

John nodded as he answered, "I will definitely tell her. However, I've told her to keep quiet about any legal matters—for now. She threatened the school principal with a lawsuit against the school and the bullies' parents, and she is already receiving anonymous threats. I think it's best to keep quiet about lawsuits till this gets on TV."

"_Yes, you're probably right_. _Okay, so how about we set up an interview between Sharlotte and our reporters…and we could see if the school would allow some of the roster to visit the school and have a rally to help encourage the kids to not bully, as well as letting those whom _are_ being bullied know there are people they can turn to for help_.

"Sounds great," John said, running his hand over the back of his neck. "Do you think we could get some reporters out there in the next few days?"

"_Of course_," Stephanie said, "_As soon as possible, actually. Can you find out if Monday would be okay with her_?"

"Yeah, I'm going to call her a little later and I'll make sure. I'll get right back to you as soon as I check with her."

"_Also, find out what school the boy goes to_," Stephanie added. "_Then I can contact the superintendent and principal about setting up a visit to the school_."

"Will do," John replied. "Thanks a lot, Steph. I owe ya."

"_Not a problem_," she told him. "_I'm glad to help_."

They said goodbye and John disconnected the call, but as soon as he hung up, his phone was ringing. Wishing it was Sharlotte calling him, he looked at the phone's screen. Disappointment set in when he discovered Randy was calling him instead.

It wasn't that he was bummed to hear from his friend. It was just that he got to see Randy frequently—with the exception of the past few days—but he was yet to see Sharlotte in person. He shook his head in amazement when he realized he thought of her more and more each day—a woman whom he'd never met.

Finally, realizing he was leaving Randy hanging, he answered the call.

"Hey, Randy…what's up?"

"_Not too much_," came Randy's answer. "_I'm just about to take Cassandra and Alli out for a day at the zoo. I just wanted to check in with you and see how you're doing, first. What with our crazy schedules, we've not really got to hang out or anything. How's the divorce going_?"

"Eh, about as good as I expected it to," John answered, rolling his eyes. "Amy of course threw some tantrums, and is now trying to drive me crazy because of a friend I made on Twitter."

"_Ah_…_A female friend, I assume_?"

John chuckled, "Yeah, you assume correctly."

"_John, be careful_," Randy cautioned. "_I know I used to be pretty reckless when it came to women, but looking back, I know how many potential disasters I sat myself up for_."

"Don't worry, Randy," John said. "She's just a friend. And besides, I thought _you_ needed to be cautious of Cassandra at one time. But she really surprised me."

Randy sounded almost smug when he said, "_I knew she would. She's who I'm meant to be with_."

"Right," John agreed. "And like I said, Sharlotte's just a friend. But…_if_ something happens and our friendship turns into something more, you can relax. Because Sharlotte's different. I can tell. And you can rest assured I'll be very careful regardless. I'm not going to let myself go through 'Amy: The Sequel'."

"_Okay_," Randy said. "_Fair enough. So, is Amy making this Sharlotte's life a living hell,_" he asked knowingly.

"She made an attempt," John admitted, "But I put a stop to it. I had a recording of Amy in bed with a guy, and told her if she bothered Sharlotte at all, I'd use it to benefit me in the divorce. She doesn't need to know I'm going to use it anyway."

"_Nice_," Randy said, clearly impressed. "_How did she take your recording her_?"

John laughed, "How do you _think_ she took it? She was livid. You should have seen her when I served her with the divorce papers. Oh, and the winner is when I told her Sharlotte and I were having phone sex!"

"_You obviously love to live dangerously_," Randy laughed.

"Oh, yeah," John jokingly agreed. "Danger's where I thrive." He heard little Alli giggling and yelling in the background then. "Sounds like your little one's ready to see some animals," he commented.

"_Yeah, I'd better get off here and get her in the car_," Randy agreed. "_She's laughing now, but if I don't get in a hurry, she can have a temper tantrum in the blink of an eye_."

"She's already got you wrapped around her pinky, bro," John laughed. "You're so in for it when she gets older."

"_Ugh, I shudder to think_," Randy laughed. "_Well, I gotta go. Talk to ya later_."

"Later," John said, and then disconnected as he heard Alli let loose with a high-pitched squeal. Shaking his head and chuckling, he didn't envy Randy at that particular moment.

He couldn't imagine being a father. Not that he wouldn't love having a kid or two, but he had no idea how he'd manage to be there for them while he was so dedicated to his job. He was just thankful Amy hadn't wound up pregnant. The divorce would've really gotten ugly then. And she would've used the baby as leverage just to keep her hooks in him.

For just a brief moment, despite all he'd been through, John felt a surge of wistfulness—for what _could_ have been. But he wouldn't let himself think on it for too long. Despite how he acted, it truly did hurt to have loved someone who'd apparently thought nothing of him.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

A while later, John had finished some weight-lifting, and grabbed a quick shower.

Scrubbing a towel over his head and across his muscular chest, he headed out of the bathroom and went into his bedroom, quickly pulling some jeans on over his boxers. Then he flopped across his bed and grabbed his cell phone from his night table. Highlighting Sharlotte's name in his contacts, he tapped the "Call" Icon. Within seconds, he heard her soft voice greeting him mingled with the sounds of wrestling in the background.

"_Hi, John_."

He grinned at hearing the smile in her voice, and started to greet her in return, when she spoke again.

"_Hang on just a second_," she chuckled. "_Noah, turn the TV down a little, okay_? _I can't hear_."

The roar of the wrestling's audience lowered considerably, and then Sharlotte was speaking to him again, "_Sorry about that. Noah and I were watching TNA. How are you_," she asked him.

"Doing great," John answered. "Should I call back when TNA goes off," he asked. "I don't want to make you miss it."

"_Oh, no it's not a problem_," Sharlotte replied. "_I can multi-task. I was actually reading a book and listening to the matches_."

"Oh, so you're a reader, huh? What book are ya reading?"

"_Yep, I'm a total book worm_," she joked. "_And the book is _The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo."

"Ah, is that the one that's been made into a movie? The one with Daniel Craig?"

"_Yes_," Sharlotte answered. "_The movie looked really good, so I decided to read the books. There are actually three of them. And they are seriously long_," she exclaimed. "_They're not my typical kind of reading, but so far this first book's been pretty interesting_."

"What do you normally choose to read?"

"_Well…all kinds of things, really. I love some classics like Jane Austen's_ Sense and Sensibility, _and Charles Dicken's_ Great Expectations_. I enjoy spiritual and inspirational novels. I absolutely love romances, and even some young adult novels. My guilty pleasure was the_ Twilight Saga _and the_ Harry Potter _books_."

John laughed, "You really _are_ a book worm, huh?"

"_I told ya_," she warned teasingly. "_So do you do any reading_? _Or do you not have much time for that_?"

"Generally, I don't have much time for it. But when I can, I love anything to do with cars, sports, or history."

"_I like reading about certain events in history, but try as I might, I could not enjoy history in school. I never could get better than a B in any of my history classes_."

"Well, it's not for everybody," John said. "Everyone is different. We don't all like the same things. For instance, I hated math."

"_And I _loved_ math_," Sharlotte laughed. "_I always kept a ninety-five average or above in algebra_."

"Show-off," John jokingly scolded.

"_Well, if it makes you feel better, I only got a B in geometry_," she teased. "And _it was a 'pity' B at that. My teacher knew I was really trying to understand, but I just wasn't fully getting it_. _Geometry's one side of math I loathe_."

"You and me both," John chuckled.

"_So…do you have time to Skype_?"

"For you? Of course," John answered, getting off his bed and going over to his desk. He heard Sharlotte giggle and then pushed the power button on his laptop. There was the sound of footsteps, and John figured she was heading for her computer as well. "Just let me boot up my laptop. I _could_ use this cell phone, but my laptop screen is bigger and I want to see you better."

"_Okay, be warned_," Sharlotte joked. "_It's been a long day_. _I'm a mess by now._"

John scoffed. "Now, I find that hard to believe," he said, logging into his Skype account with his free hand.

"_No seriously_," she laughed. "_My hair is up in a messy bun, no makeup, tank top and shorts. Honest. I am a far cry from how I looked earlier_."

"Still…the mental image is sexy to _me_," John disagreed as he initiated a call to Sharlotte through Skype. He smiled at the silence from her end. "I can actually _hear_ you blushing."

"_I am not_!"

"Liar," John teased.

"Oh, you're call's coming through," Sharlotte said. "Hang on a sec."

In the next instant, she was on his screen smiling at him.

John took in her slightly disheveled appearance and smiled, flashing his dimples at her. "And you look as sexy as I imagined. I'm glad you brought up Skyping! It was a really great idea," John flirted.

"Stop it," Sharlotte giggled. A fresh blush crept up her porcelain skin. "I look a fright, and you know it."

John shook his head as he gazed at her small frame. Her pink tank top was spaghetti-strapped and emphasized the slender curve of her neck. His eyes fell on her collar bone and he couldn't help wondering what sort of sounds she would make if he nipped her there.

"John?"

He was yanked from his thoughts when Sharlotte said his name. He shifted his gaze back up to her face and caught the look of concern in her eyes.

"Are you okay," she asked. "You seemed a little…"

John felt his face burning, and saw her grin then.

"Well, John Cena…Now I believe it's _you_ who's blushing."

"And you'd be blushing _again_, if you knew what was going through my mind," John shot back with a slight raise of an eyebrow. At her gasp, he could not stop the laugh that erupted in his throat.

"Oh, honestly," Sharlotte cried indignantly, though John could see she wasn't truly angry. Her hand rose self-consciously to her neck in a nervous gesture and she avoided his gaze then.

John jokingly groaned, "You're killing me here! Don't get shy. Come on, I'm only human."

Sharlotte shyly glanced downward as she lowered her hand, "I'm just not…used to that kind of attention."

"Why not," John asked, genuinely baffled. "Aren't there men in your town?"

"Of course," she chuckled. "I just haven't had time for a social life, what with work, taking care of Noah, and helping my sister keep up with house cleaning and any repairs that are needed. And church, when I'm able to go to services."

"Ah, I see," John said, his mental gears turning. He needed to ask her about how deeply her spiritual beliefs went, but didn't feel it was the right time. "Well…do you ever get to do anything _socially_?"

She nodded chuckling, "Yep. Again, church and church functions when I can. And I'm socializing right now. Even if I do have a little time to do something social, I never really get invited to do anything because I'm not out much to begin with. It's a vicious circle," she explained. "Well, I take that back. I do stuff once in a while with my best friend, but it's usually just going to a movie or something like that."

"So…you don't date at all," John couldn't keep the note of hopefulness out of his voice. Nor could he figure out why it was there in the first place. The subject of dating should have been the last thing on his mind.

Sharlotte shook her head in answer, "No. I don't. I…don't really…get asked out on dates."

John could see the shame on her face, and he felt horrible that he was the reason for her embarrassment.

"Sharlotte, don't feel bad because of my question. I was just curious. You're a beautiful woman—inside and out. And…well, any man would be lucky to have you."

She smiled and flushed slightly, "Thank you, John."

"Just speaking the truth, beautiful. So, do you mind telling me how long it's been since your last relationship?"

Her blush deepened and she avoided his eyes. "I've never had a boyfriend," she replied softly.

John nearly swallowed his tongue.

"Seriously? I find that very hard to believe," he said genuinely.

Sharlotte laughed, "Well, it's true. I…didn't have a _normal_ childhood. And I guess I just didn't recover from it. I'm not shy around friends, but—as I'm sure you can see—I am a little timid around the opposite sex. When you…make flirty comments to me, I clam up. I mean, I like it," she prattled on, afraid he would _stop_ his flirting altogether. "But I get all giggly like some dumb school girl, and-"

"Whoa, Sharlotte," John interrupted. "You're fine, don't worry about it," he told her. "I find your giggly nature cute. I can see you also have intelligence, so it definitely doesn't bother me. Don't sweat it."

She nodded and chuckled nervously, "Okay."

"Why didn't you have a normal childhood," he asked. "Was it due to abuse or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Sharlotte answered immediately. "I was…an athlete—a figure skater, to be exact," she explained. "That was the 'hobby' I've mentioned vaguely." She continued at seeing John's nod of recognition. "Anyway, I loved skating. It was…my life. But, my parents pushed me so hard, that it took up all my time. I had to fight to keep good grades in school. I wasn't getting much sleep or anything. And I'd mentioned yesterday on the phone that I was bullied due to my hobby, A.K.A. figure skating…so not having many friends made it difficult to develop social skills."

"Yeah, I can definitely see where all of that would prevent someone from having a normal childhood," John said. "So, you must have been pretty good at skating for your parents to push you so hard though, right?"

Sharlotte nodded, "Yes, I was…_very_ good at it." She blushed then, "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything. It's just…skating...I thought it was my calling."

"So what happened," John asked. "You keep referring to it in the past tense."

He saw her take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her figure skating career was obviously a painful subject. He could've sworn he saw her eyes welling up with tears.

"I was an…an Olympian," she confessed. "But my Olympic career was short-lived," she added quickly, seeing the awe enter John's eyes. She didn't want to make herself sound like a bigger deal than she was. "In 1998, I came in second at the United States Figure Skating Championships, right behind Tara Lipinski. I did really well on my short program—I was in the lead actually. And then my long program…well, I never got to perform it. I had a freak accident during one of my practices. My shoelace snapped free in the middle of a big jump. I fell to the ice and was knocked unconscious. When I came to in the hospital, I was told I'd broken my ankle so severely that I'd never be able to skate competitively again. I wouldn't be capable of the jumps required."

"I'm…I'm so sorry," John said softly. He couldn't imagine what he'd do if he had a career-ending injury. "How did the lace…I mean… was the lace old? Maybe damaged or worn out?"

Sharlotte shook her head, "No. It was brand new. I'd put it in only the night before. I think it was just defective."

"Was the accident investigated," John asked. "Could someone have tampered with it?"

He hated the thought of any person being cheated out of their career, but the thought of Sharlotte being hurt on purpose…It angered him.

"Oh, yes," Sharlotte nodded, "After Nancy Kerrigan's attack in 1994, and the skate issues with Tonya Harding in the same Olympics, it was definitely investigated. But officials couldn't find any evidence of foul play. It just…happened."

John nodded, "I remember all that stuff in '94. That was a crazy year for the winter games. I'm really sorry about your accident." He could see how much it still hurt her. "I didn't really keep up with the '98 games, but I think I vaguely remember hearing about you on the news."

"Yeah, it was covered on several news stations," Sharlotte said. "It seems just like it happened yesterday instead of fifteen years ago. I don't think the memory will ever fade."

"I know you can't do the jumps and stuff," John said, "but do you ever just skate for the fun of it?"

Sharlotte shook her head. "No, I can't bring myself to. I've not been on the ice since my injury. On one hand I want to try, but on the other…I'm scared, I guess."

"What if I was with you?"

He watched her face light up. He wasn't sure if it was the idea of getting to hang out with him, or the idea of being on the ice again.

"I couldn't expect you to risk breaking a leg on the ice just to help me overcome a fear," she said softly. "But thank you."

"Hey, I'm no fragile flower," John said. "Not many people know this, but I used to play ice-hockey when I was younger. I was a good skater too."

"Really?" Sharlotte's face broke into a big smile. "You can skate?"

"Yep. So, what do ya say? If I get to come up your way sometime, how about I take you skating?"

A hint of apprehension touched her eyes as she answered, "I'll think about it. It's stupid I know…but it's just something I've not faced I guess, and it's difficult-"

"I don't think it's stupid at all. You went through a really traumatic experience, let alone recovering from the injury itself."

Sharlotte nodded and managed a small smile, "You really are good at making me feel better, John Cena."

"Likewise," he returned softly. "I'm really glad I met you. Even though I've not gotten to see you in person. Yet."

"Yet," Sharlotte repeated, "So are you saying it's probable that we'll meet some day?"

John grinned, "Not 'probable'. _Definite_. And probably sooner than you think."

She returned his grin, "I can't wait."

"Neither can I." He paused then and exhaled, hating to bring up a sore subject. "I wanted to let you know that I talked to Stephanie McMahon earlier and she's eager to try and help you and Noah."

"Great," Sharlotte exclaimed. "What do I need to do?"

"Just be ready for some interviews on Monday," he answered. "And I need the name of Noah's school, and your home address."

"Okay, Noah's school is S. McDaniel Elementary. And our address is 2307 Hudson Road." She watched as John wrote the information down. "So, how many people can I be expecting? I need to know how much food to prepare, and-"

"That won't be necessary Sharlotte," John said. "Don't go to any trouble. They'll only be there probably about an hour. Just long enough for you and Noah to talk about what's happened with the bullying. And that will be the time you'll want to talk about the threats made against you."

"Okay," Sharlotte nodded. "One way or the other, the bullying and threats _will_ stop."

John smiled appreciatively at her, "You are one tough young lady."

"Only where my loved ones are concerned," Sharlotte partially admitted. "I can put up with a lot, but mess with my sister, nephew or friends and Mama Bear comes out."

John chuckled, "I believe it."

"So…who will be coming to interview us? Reporters from WWE?"

John nodded, "Yeah to be exact. And Steph will probably be there too."

Sharlotte's jaw dropped.

"Steph? As in Stephanie McMahon?"

John nodded again, "Don't be nervous. She's nothing like her gimmick. She's a really sweet person in reality."

"Oh, I'm not scared of her," Sharlotte laughed. "I just…am nervous. She's the CEO's daughter for crying out loud!"

"Don't worry. You'll like her. She wants to meet you guys and to go to Noah's school along with a couple of superstars to hold a rally against bullying."

"Oh wow, that's so awesome," Sharlotte said. "Thank you so much, for helping us out, John. I really-"

"NOAH TAYLOR! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Oh, no! TNA," Sharlotte groaned, at hearing her sister's angry voice. "I have to go," she said hurriedly, "Can we talk maybe tomorrow?"

"Sure," John said, concern on his face. "Everything okay?"

She nodded, "It will be. So sorry. I'll explain it another time. Goodnight."

With that, she got up and ran from the room to do some damage control.

John watched her leave and reluctantly closed out of Skype.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, Chapter 10 will be a totally new chapter, so it may be a little while before I get it posted since these previous chapters were just needing editing. Will get it posted as soon as I can though! Thanks again for reading & leaving feedback! :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Rating: R **R due to violence  
**Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

_**Chapter Ten**_

Sharlotte bounded down the stairs in a hurry, eager to save her nephew from a brutal tongue-lashing—a tongue-lashing which should have been reserved for her. She'd just made it to the landing when she heard Noah's anxiety-filled voice.

"Mom, I'm sorry! I just—"

"You're _SO_ grounded! From EVERYthing," came Julie's furious voice.

Sharlotte shot into the living room, just as Julie drew her hand back at Noah and prepared to slap his face.

"NO!" She lunged forward and dove in front of Noah, grabbing her sister's wrist. "Don't you _dare_ hit him!"

"Momma! Please, don't," Noah cried, tears streaming down his face. "I said I was sorry!"

"Noah, get upstairs," Sharlotte said calmly, still grasping her angry sister's arm despite the death glare she was receiving in return. "I'll be up to talk to you in a little bit." She saw the boy hesitate and look as though he feared she would punish him. "Don't worry, honey. You're not in trouble—none at all."

Noah nodded, and didn't wish to stick around for more of his mother's harsh, angry words. Sobbing, he ran for the stairs and hurried up to his room.

When Noah was out of ear-shot, Julie cursed under her breath. "Who do you think you are," she raged, her dark eyes flashing at her in fury.

Sharlotte turned back to her sister's face as Julie ripped her arm free. "What do you mean," she demanded. "You were being abnormally cruel to him! He's being bullied all the time at school, and then he's supposed to come home and deal with his mother bullying him too? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me," Julie repeated. "I lay down a rule that I don't want my son watching wrestling or having anything to do with the garbage, and then I see where he's been doing exactly that behind my back!"

"Because I told him he could," Sharlotte said. "There's no reason why he shouldn't. You have a strange hatred for wrestling, Julie. You won't even tell us why you hate it, yet you expect us to hate it because you do. Well we don't. We love it, in fact. Noah wants to become a wrestler when he gets older, and I've told him I'll support him the whole way." She felt a sudden need to unleash all the secrets she'd hidden from her sister. "Since he's being bullied, I bought him a cell phone to call me with in an emergency. And, before I forget, we have some WWE reporters coming Monday to interview us because of the bullying situation at his school. Oh! And we've made friends with John Cena online." She saw Julie pale at the mention of John and knew she was going too far, but she had grown angry as well. It seemed like the perfect time to get everything out in the open. "What do you have to say to all that, I wonder," Sharlotte finished. Her own eyes were flashing vividly with anger now.

"Those aren't your decisions to make!" Julie burst out. Her eyes grew even angrier than before. "He's MY son, not yours!"

The comment stung, even though it was true. However, Julie was in no shape to be a mother when she was so angry.

"_I'm_ his mother," Julie continued. "If you want a kid to screw up, then go have one of your own!"

A tear spilled down Sharlotte's cheek. Her sister had never been so cold to her before.

"I…I can't believe you said that," she whispered, wiping away the tear.

"It's true," Julie growled. "You have no right to take over my son!"

"Then actually be a mother to him," Sharlotte screamed back, her own temper tested past its limits. "You're _never_ there for him! You're either at work or in bed! I'm tired too, Julie! But I don't get to check out! I'm the one who has to feed Noah, I take him shopping for what he needs, and make sure he's taken care of! I keep this house up and running and you _dare_ tell me I'm 'taking your son over'? If _I_ didn't care for him, then who would, Julie?!"

_SMACK_!

Julie's open palm connected loudly against the side of Sharlotte's face. Stunned, the younger sibling took a couple steps back and held her face as she stared at her sister in disbelief. She could feel blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

"Want to hit me back," Julie challenged, balling her fists.

Sharlotte shook her head as more tears burned her eyes, "No. That would've never even crossed my mind. But it's good to know where _you_ stand on the subject. I don't think I even know you anymore. Maybe I never did. Goodnight, Julie."

With that, Sharlotte headed up the stairs and shuffled dazedly up to Noah's bedroom. She knocked lightly, and opened the door to a darkened room.

"Noah?"

She heard sniffling followed by a choked sob, and the creaking of his bed. Then the boy was at the door and latched onto Sharlotte, hugging her tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Noah. I don't know what's happened to her," she told him, rubbing his back as she returned his hug. "But don't worry. I won't let her hurt you. I'll not stand by and watch her…fall apart, and take it out on you."

His small frame shuddered with pained sobs, "When I was really little…I-I thought _y_-_you_ were my mom," he confessed. "And n-now…I wish you w-were."

Sharlotte's eyes brimmed over with more stinging tears. She hated for him to feel that way about his mother. But she couldn't say as she blamed him at that precise moment. She had been more of a mother to Noah than Julie ever had, truth be told. It just never occurred to her that he'd recall, at such a young age, Sharlotte seeing to his care more than Julie.

"Why don't you come into my room and finish TNA," she asked, trying to change the subject. "Keep me company?"

He nodded and followed her across the hall to her room. He flopped across the foot of her bed and watched as Sharlotte turned the television on to Spike TV. Then she went into her private bathroom and got a wet wash cloth to clean the cut at the corner of her mouth. Her face was now throbbing as she dabbed at the cut.

_She must have had a ring on_, she thought, wincing from the contact of the wash cloth. A tear spilled down her cheek again and she bit back a sob. _Dear Lord, what has happened to my sister_?

Shaking her head in confusion, she exited the bathroom and stretched out length-wise on the bed, trying to pay attention to the remaining matches on TNA. She couldn't seem to keep her mind on them however. She was too troubled by her sister's actions and harsh words.

The stress took its toll and her eyes grew heavy and soon she dozed off into a dreamless, restless sleep.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

John sat at his desk eating a late dinner of a cheese omelet with bacon, and scrolling through Youtube videos of Sharlotte's skating. He was amazed by her abilities. She rarely fell from a jump, no matter the number of revolutions. She was incredibly graceful too. It was like watching a ballerina on ice. Taking another bite of egg, he watched her short program from the 1998 Olympics, and smiled at the happiness on her face. She was dressed in a vibrant blue costume that flowed gracefully down to her knees. She skated to Mozart's Lacrimosa, and she seemed to glow through the entire performance—as if the music, or the ice, or even both—set her free. The program was a beautiful mix of artistry and technical elements. He watched in awe as Sharlotte leaped and came dangerously close to performing a flawless quadruple toe-loop.

"One more quarter turn and she'd have done it," he thought out loud. He saw the thrill on her face as she realized what she'd almost achieved. It seemed to spur her on to the end of her program when she finished with an intense scratch spin. She ended it with a sudden stop and her arms poised over her head. She held the pose for a moment as the audience erupted into thunderous applause and screams.

John could almost feel her surge of emotion as he watched tears of joy well up in her eyes. She waved and posed as was traditional for a figure skater to do, and then skated toward the rink exit to receive her scores.

_Hard to believe she was only fifteen then_, he thought. _She seems much older_.

He clicked on another video of her skating for a charity event and grinned when he saw her letting her spicy side show. She wore a short, sparkly, bright pink costume with a tasseled hem and skated to Destiny's Child's "_Bootylicious_".

"Well, little Miss Bashful certainly wasn't shy on the ice, that's for sure," he chuckled. He saw another video in the search cue then, and dreaded watching it. It was titled: "Tragic End To Sharlotte Taylor's Figure Skating Career".

The video was news coverage and footage of the fall and injuries which caused Sharlotte's forced retirement. He cautiously clicked on it and watched Sharlotte skating around the rink by herself in a simple outfit of black tights, a gray ultra mini-skirt, and a snug fitting black turtle-neck. The _Hellboy & Liz_ film score from _Hellboy_ was playing over the sound system as she glided over the ice effortlessly. She sped up her pace and then did a half-turn, preparing herself for a jump. She launched into the air gracefully, completed three revolutions, and then came back down to the ice on one foot. She landed the jump correctly but John saw as her lace, indeed, broke. Her ankle snapped forward at an impossible angle as she plummeted face-first to the ice. Her body crashed against the frozen, hard surface and John could actually see her head bounce up and then smack down on the ice again.

"My God…it's a miracle her only head injury was a concussion," he thought out loud. "I can't believe she didn't break her neck!"

He watched as her coach, and several medics headed out onto the ice to check on her. She was completely unresponsive and limp. He watched as the medics quickly situated her on a stretcher, and then carried her off the ice, presumably to an ambulance.

The video ended there and John sat back in his chair, puffing out a sigh. He shook his head to clear the image of Sharlotte's slight frame lying in a damaged heap on the ice. The sight scared him, as well as took his appetite.

As he pushed the remainder of his dinner away from him, the sudden urge to have Sharlotte in his arms flew over him, and he couldn't explain the strange sensation. It was just an irrepressible need. He shook his head, knowing 'need' wasn't a strong enough term. It was almost as if something was trying to pull him to her. And after seeing how easily death could have claimed her, he didn't need much nudging. Looking at his watch, he noted the time and did some quick calculations in his head.

Moments later, he was smiling and putting the piece of paper he'd written Sharlotte's address on in his jeans pocket.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte slowly came awake, and saw that TNA Impact had gone off, and 1,000 Ways To Die now played on her television screen. Shuddering at the grotesque show, she shut the television off, and looked at her alarm clock.

_Ugh, it's already 10:30_, she inwardly groaned. Glancing down at the foot of her bed, she then realized Noah was still lying at the foot of her bed, fast asleep. Slightly groggy, she stood to her feet and approached her nephew, gently nudging his shoulder.

"Noah," she whispered, "TNA is off now. You should go to your own bed and get some sleep, baby."

The boy groaned in his sleep and rolled over, unable to rouse himself from sleep.

She didn't have the heart to jar him awake so—with a soft sigh of defeat—she struggled to lift her nephew's frame into her arms, then managed to carry him down the hall to his room. Moments later, she laid him down on his bed and pulled the covers up over him. She leaned down and whispered, "Tomorrow is another day, just remember that, kiddo. Love you." Brushing a kiss over his forehead, she then left the room, and crossed the hall to Julie's room.

She figured Julie'd had enough time to cool off, and hopefully could talk rationally. She had to make it clear that her earlier behavior would not be tolerated.

_I will not be abused. I just won't have it._

Tentatively, she raised her hand and wrapped her knuckles on the door's hard wood.

No answer.

Sighing, she knocked again, fearing Julie was still angry and acting like a child.

Still, no answer.

"Julie, open this door. _Now_. We have to talk."

Silence.

Groaning in frustration, Sharlotte turned the doorknob and entered the room. "Julie, enough. This is stupid…"

Her words trailed off when she saw she was speaking to a dark and empty room.

She nearly turned to go to the kitchen, feeling sure her sister was probably eating before leaving for work, when she spotted in the darkness a folded piece of paper propped up on Julie's pillow.

She turned on the light then, and her eyes took a full survey of the room as her heart sank. All the bureau's drawers were open and empty, and the closet door was also open. The interior of the closet was bare except for empty hangers.

"Please, God…no…" she whispered in dread.

Hurriedly, she turned and closed the door, fearing Noah would get up and see across the hall into the obviously vacated room. She couldn't help Noah if he had a panic attack, because she was about to have one of her own. Crossing the room then, Sharlotte snatched up the note left on her sister's pillow.

_Sharlotte,_

_I'm very sorry I slapped you. I don't know what came over me. And you were right. You've done everything, while I try to sleep my life away. That's not fair to you or Noah. I'm battling some demons, Sharlotte. Not like mom and dad's demons, but demons nonetheless. It's depression and loneliness. I know you don't know who Noah's father is… that's part of my problem, and part of why I hate wrestling. I had a weak moment in life, Sharlotte. I had a one night stand with a wrestler, and while I wanted a relationship with him, he was so busy training to wrestle…I just knew he wasn't up for that kind of commitment. He wasn't a bad guy…we just both made a mistake. And then I wound up pregnant. Please don't tell Noah about his father. I'm too ashamed. I just wanted you to know why I am, the way I am. _

_Anyway…I hate to do this to you, but I'm leaving, Shar. For good. I realize I'm putting too much pressure on you, and I'm failing miserably as a mother to Noah. I'm just not good for either one of you. I realize this will make things a little more difficult for you, but the house is paid for so you'll at least always have a roof over your head. I'm sorry, I just don't know what else to do._

_Take care of my baby. I love you both very much._

_~Julie_

"No…no…no…" Sharlotte felt the tears pouring down her cheeks. "How can she do this to us? How will I provide for Noah?" She wadded the note up in her clenched fist. "How could she be so selfish?"

In a daze, Sharlotte headed quietly back to her bedroom and changed into a pastel pink knee-length nightgown. She then went through the motions of brushing her teeth and brushing out her hair before collapsing onto her bed in a series of shuddering sobs that shook her slender build. She straightened up the crumpled mess of a note and read it again.

"'Make things a little more difficult' for me," Sharlotte read out loud. "How stupid can she be?" She shook her head and sobbed again, careful to be as quiet as possible. She didn't want to wake Noah only for him to discover his mother had abandoned him, and see his aunt suffering a huge anxiety attack.

"Okay, Sharlotte Taylor…Get your head on straight. You can do this. Clearly, your sister can't think of anyone but herself, so you're going to have to suck it up and deal with it." She rubbed her temples to ease the headache that had begun to pound behind her eyes and in her sinuses. "Tomorrow on my lunch break I need to figure up what the bills come to each month and make sure my income will cover them all." She shook her head again, and then said a prayer before she got under the covers of her bed.

She fell asleep almost instantly, tears still streaming down her face.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

John drove to the outskirts of town and followed the directions his GPS gave to find Sharlotte's house. He hated to arrive so late at night, but he just had to see her and he felt sure she'd not mind finally seeing him in person. He couldn't shake the feeling that Sharlotte was troubled about something. And it wasn't just due to the last time he saw her. She'd heard someone yelling in the house and seemed very distressed. But he had the oddest feeling that things had gotten worse for her.

They had some sort of special connection and he couldn't figure it out. He'd only seen things like that in the movies or in books. He'd never experienced anything like it in his life.

His GPS told him to turn right onto a dirt road then, and he complied, keeping his eye out for a mailbox or house numbers to inform him he was headed the correct way. After several minutes, he reached her house and double checked the address to make sure he had the right one.

_It'd really suck if I woke up a complete stranger_, John thought. _Something tells me I wouldn't be too welcome around here again. _He pulled into the long driveway then and killed the engine. _Hopefully Sharlotte hasn't noticed me out here. I need to keep quiet. _

John got out of the car and gently clicked the car door shut, and pulled out his cell phone. He highlighted her name in his contact list and tapped the "call" icon.

After a few rings, he heard her sleepy voice greet him softly, "_John_?"

"Hey, beautiful," he smiled. "I'm sorry I woke you, but I have a surprise waiting for you on your front porch and I need you to go get it."


	11. Chapter 11

**Rating: **R due to violence  
**Story Contents/Warnings: **Violence  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: ** Sorry for the delay in updates! And thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

_**Chapter Eleven**_

Sharlotte woke to John Cena's _Right Now_. She shot strait up and grabbed the phone in haste since she'd recently set the ringtone to be John's. It just seemed fitting—mainly because the tone of the song was the way she thought of John…lighthearted and care-free.

"John," she greeted softly and then coughed lightly, fighting the tear-induced thickness in her throat.

"_Hey, beautiful_. _I'm sorry I woke you, but I have a surprise waiting for you on your front porch and I need you to go get it_."

"What? A _surprise_? John, how in the world did you have something delivered this late?" She sniffled then, and reached for a tissue out of the box on her night table. "It's really great to hear your voice. It's just what I needed," she confessed.

"_Are you okay_," John answered her initial question with one of his own. "_You sound like you have a cold_."

Sharlotte shook her head and replied hesitantly, "No, I'm not sick. I've just had a really…rough night."

"_I'm sorry, sweetie. Is there anything I can do to help_?"

"No, not really. It's just…something I have to figure out for myself." She didn't want to weigh him down with her new problems, so she tried changing the subject. "So, what's this surprise, and how did you get it delivered at midnight?"

"_I've got my connections. Now, go check it out, woman_," he teased her. "_It might just help you feel a little better_."

"Okay, but you really didn't have to do this," Sharlotte was surprised to feel herself smiling. Rising to her feet, she grabbed her robe, pulling it on over her nightgown and slipped on her flip-flops before heading down the hallway toward the stairs. She was eager to see what he'd sent her, so she hurriedly jogged down the stairs, combing her fingers through her hair as she went. A few seconds later, she quickly opened the front door.

Looking down at the concrete porch, she saw nothing. She then stepped out onto the porch itself, and as she peered to her left, there was still nothing. She took a few steps further and stared at the porch swing closely, squinting to see through the darkness.

"John, there's nothing here," she finally spoke into the phone. "I think you may have-"

"Try looking behind you."

Sharlotte gasped and froze for an instant. The soft-spoken words came from _behind_ her—not from her phone. And furthermore, the voice was undeniably John's.

_No way_, she thought, slowly turning around.

Despite her prior observations, she still couldn't believe it when she saw a large-framed, male silhouette standing on her porch—a silhouette which she couldn't mistake for anyone but John Cena.

"J-John…?"

Her phone slipped from her hand and clattered onto the porch's railing.

Sharlotte watched in shock as John took a couple steps forward and stepped into a beam of moonlight. _It _is_ him, _she thought, finally able to make out his facial features. _Bright blue eyes, cleft chin, gorgeous smile_. "Oh, my God…" She managed to whisper. Her hand shot up to her mouth, as if she were afraid a shriek might rip forth at any moment.

"Well, do I get a hug, or what?"

Sharlotte saw John's dimples flash as he questioned her softly.

"Hug," she parroted blankly.

She knew she must sound like a complete moron, but she feared she was losing her mind. _First, my sister hits me, then leaves me high and dry to finish raising Noah on my own, and now I'm seeing John Cena on my porch asking me for a hug in the middle of the night_!

"Yeah, you know—when friends or loved ones wrap their arms around each other," he teased lightly, moving another step closer. He recalled her saying she'd had a rough night then, and instantly felt horrible for sounding so cheerful. "Come here," he coaxed gently, opening his arms to her.

With the day she'd had, the simple gesture was all it took.

Tears burned Sharlotte's eyes as she flew to John and dove into his embrace. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she gave into the urge to bury her face against his chest. He instantly closed his arms around her and held her close, rocking her back and forth. Sharlotte inhaled and caught the scent of his cologne. He smelled just the way she would've imagined—light and clean…masculine, but not over-powering.

"I have to say, this feels really nice," John said, enjoying the feel of her slender body pressed against his large one. She nodded against his chest, and he could feel her trembling. A soft sob shook her slight frame then and he held her tighter. "What's wrong, Sharlotte," he asked softly. "Can you talk about it?"

"I-I just…I just needed you—so much. You have no idea how much I needed you right now," she cried. "_I_ didn't even realize it myself, till I saw you standing here."

He rocked her again, relishing the feel of her in his arms. He tucked her head under his chin and closed his eyes almost dreamily as he whispered, "I needed you too, sweetie. And I _felt_ you needing me. I can't explain why—or how—but I did."

"Can you stay a little while," Sharlotte asked, pulling back a little to look into his face. "I've gotten some bad news, and I…I'm afraid to be alone tonight. I'm fighting some anxiety, and it's hard to do by myself."

"Of course," John said, stroking her back. He reached up and gently brushed some tears from her cheeks. "I wouldn't leave you alone when you're scared." He glanced down for a moment, bashfulness appearing on his face. "I was actually hoping I could stay the night and leave early in the morning for a house show in Dallas."

"Yes, of course, you can stay," Sharlotte smiled thankfully. "I'm so happy…I can't believe you did this."

"Well, I'm glad you're happy," John returned her smile. "It was a bit presumptuous of me to just show up here, I'll admit. But-"

"Shh…" Sharlotte shushed him as she walked over to retrieve her cell phone. "It was not. I'm very glad you came."

"So am I," John grinned. "I'll just go grab my bag so I can change in the morning before I leave."

He headed down the steps out to his car, grabbed his rolling suitcase and then hurried back to the porch with a broad smile on his handsome face. Sharlotte already had entered the house and was waiting for him to enter next.

"You can leave your bag here in the hall for now," she told him, switching on the hallway light and turning to face him. She almost cringed at the sudden anger she saw in his eyes. "John? What's-"

"Who did that to you," he demanded, reaching over and gently turning her face to better inspect her cheek. The lighting they stood in revealed some bruising on her face. "Was it the guy who threatened you? Is he the bad news you were talking about?"

At the sharp twinge of pain in her face, Sharlotte suddenly remembered the hard slap Julie gave her. She started to answer when John's finger lightly trailed to the corner of her mouth. The tender contact sent a shiver of delight all the way up her spine.

"God, he even cut your mouth," John whispered softly, typically assuming her attacker was a male. His blue eyes flashed then, taking her silence as admittance. His jaw clenched in anger before he spoke again. "I'll kill him."

Sharlotte emphatically shook her head, "No. It…It's nothing, John, really. I-"

"Nothing," John repeated in disbelief. "Your mouth is cut, and your cheekbone is bruised. That doesn't look like 'nothing' to me. Now tell me, who is he?"

"I-I…It's not…"

_I hate to let him know about Julie slapping me, but I can't just make something up either_, she thought, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"You have to tell me so I can teach him that women aren't to be abused," John insisted.

"You can't, John."

"I bet I _can_—and I _will_. Now, who was it, Sharlotte?" He stared into her gray eyes with determination, "I won't let this go."

She sighed and her shoulders slumped. "My sister."

His jaw nearly dropped. "What—your _sister_," he asked. "Why did she think hitting you was a good form of communication?"

"It was all a big—a huge…" Sharlotte trailed off, struggling for the right words, "train wreck. It was a huge train wreck. She…I…" she puffed out a sigh and looked up at John. "Are you hungry? I could use some comfort food. How about I fix us something to eat and tell you what happened?"

"Sure," John said, "Sounds good." He reached over and inspected the welted bruise on her face again. "Have you doctored this?"

Sharlotte shook her head, "No, not really. I dabbed at the cut with a wet washcloth but that's all. I've cried so much… I figured cleaning it would be pointless."

He brushed her long blond hair over her shoulder and gave her neck a gentle squeeze. He wasn't surprised to feel her neck tight with tense muscles. "Okay, the first thing we're going to do is clean and doctor your face. Then we can eat a bite and you can tell me everything…deal?"

Sharlotte nodded with a wan smile, "Deal."

John took her hand in his and led her down the hallway. "Kitchen this way," he asked, pointing through the living room.

She nodded, enjoying the feel of his large, warm hand encasing hers. Absent-mindedly, she curled her fingers tighter, giving his hand a squeeze. He looked down at her and smiled warmly, returning the squeeze of her hand with one of his own. She felt her heart skip a beat when his thumb brushed affectionately over the back of her hand.

They entered the kitchen then, and John surprised Sharlotte by letting go of her hand, and suddenly lifting her off her feet. Caught off guard, she gasped and grabbed at his broad shoulders as he gently deposited her onto the counter.

"Sit here so I can reach your face easier," he said gently. "And first thing's first…where do you keep your first-aid kit?"

"I have one in here, on the bottom shelf of the cupboard above the microwave," she answered softly, pointing out the designated cabinet to him.

"Okay," John said, heading over to it and locating the plastic container. He pulled it down and placed it on the counter beside her. "What about Ziploc bags, and dish towels?"

"Dish towels are right there," Sharlotte replied, pointing to the drawers beside her. "In the second drawer. Ziplocs are in the pantry next to the doorway—second shelf from the top."

A few seconds later, John had everything he needed and began to work on cleaning the cut at her mouth first.

"This will probably sting a little," he warned, moistening a gauze pad with alcohol. "But only for a second."

She nodded, "I know. I'll deal with it."

He gently dabbed at the cut with the gauze then pulled it away to let the wound breath. Sharlotte winced slightly as the air hit the doctored cut.

"Sorry," John whispered, gently blowing on the cut to hurry and dry the alcohol.

"It's okay," she whispered in return, lifting her gaze to his face.

His lips were mere inches from hers.

Their eyes met and Sharlotte's breath trembled slightly. Time seemed to freeze as they stared at each other.

_Lord, is it wrong of me to want him to kiss me_, she wondered, unable to glance away from his intense sapphire gaze.

John knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, at some point he would kiss her. It was only a matter of time. But he needed to take his time about it.

_If she's never had a boyfriend_, _I don't want to freak her out. I could kiss her _goodbye_ then_.

Oh, but he was dying to kiss her right at that moment. He wanted it more than his next breath. Especially when she was looking at him the way she was.

"I think the alcohol's dry now," he stated lamely.

_Moron_, he scolded himself. _Way to go, MORON_.

Sharlotte nodded, unaware of his internal dialogue and unsure of what to say.

John tore himself away from her and walked over to the refrigerator with a Ziploc bag in his hand. Then he opened the freezer door and began loading the baggie with ice cubes.

"We need to ice your cheek a little. It'll help take down any swelling and soreness."

"Okay," Sharlotte replied, still dazed. She couldn't fight off the feeling of disappointment when John failed to kiss her. Then she felt silly. _Like John Cena would really care to kiss me_, she thought. _He could have just about anyone he wanted_. _So I highly doubt he'd pick a woman who has strict moral standards_._ As great a guy as he is, I don't think he'd be willing to go without sex. Most men aren't._

John approached her with the bag of ice and then covered the baggie with the dish towel he'd grabbed. Then he placed the ice pack in her hand and lifted both it and her hand to her face. She flinched at the sudden, harsh coldness to her bruised cheekbone.

"Just hold it there for a few minutes," he whispered soothingly. "It'll help, I promise."

Sharlotte nodded, almost in a daze. She hadn't known what it felt like to be taken care of. With the exception of Julie coming to the hospital to fix the wrongs in her life after her accident, Sharlotte had been the caregiver in Julie's and Noah's lives. It felt nice to be the one cared for, for a change.

She sat still as John put a small dollop of Neosporin on a Q-tip and dabbed at the cut he'd cleaned moments before.

Beginning to put things away, he glanced up at her after realizing she'd been very quiet for a few moments. He reached back into the first-aid kit and pulled out a sample packet of two extra-strength Tylenols. "Here, take these too," he said, tearing open the packet and dumping the pills into her free hand. "Glasses?"

"Right over my head," Sharlotte smiled, and ducked so John could get her a glass out of the cupboard.

He poured her some water from the tap and handed her the glass, then watched her gulp down the caplets.

"Thank you, John."

She smiled again, but with a sadness in her eyes John wished he could erase.

"You okay," he asked softly.

She nodded, but wouldn't elaborate.

"Come on," John coaxed, and stood so close to her that her knees brushed against his legs. "I'm here to help, so let me."

She flushed due to his nearness, and met his eyes with a shy smile, "You've been helping already." She took another sip of water and continued. "I was just thinking how nice it's been. I usually am busy taking care of other people. It feels good for a change…for someone to help _me_ out."

John smiled in reply, "It feels good to take care of you. Usually, it's just the opposite for me. It's not that I don't _want_ to take care of my family or my friends, I'm just rarely around them in order to do it."

"You take care of your family in other ways though," Sharlotte said, setting her glass down on the counter top.

"How so," John asked, curious as to how she was thinking. He was always so busy with work he felt useless toward his family.

"Well, when you were…when you and your wife were…together…You have a stable career, and a steady income. So, she never had to worry about some emergency bill coming up that she couldn't take care of, due to your hard work."

John snorted, "Yeah, she had several shopping emergencies per week that "came up"."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sharlotte said, feeling badly that she'd made him feel worse. "I just meant that…There's plenty of husbands who aren't home very much, so they have to pretty much rely on their income to take care of their families."

John nodded, and smiled at her, "I know what you meant. I didn't mean to seem snappy. I guess… I guess I'm just a little bitter despite the fact that I'm glad to be rid of Amy."

"That's perfectly understandable," she replied, reaching up to touch his shoulder. "I'm sure you were a wonderful husband to her. I just hate the fact-"

She halted her words suddenly, realizing she was about to say too much.

"No, no, no," John laughed. "You're going to have to quit doing that."

"Doing what," she asked, chuckling nervously.

"You need to quit agonizing over what you say to me. I'm _not_ going to get mad at you."

"There's a first time for everything," Sharlotte shot back, raising an eyebrow at him.

John raised his own eyebrow and braced his hands on the counter top on either side of her hips. "Tell me, or you aren't getting off that counter."

"Oh, really," she teased, a sparkle lighting up her gray eyes. "Well, I'll have you know, I fight dirty."

"So do I."

With that, John's hands shot to her waist and began tickling her ribs mercilessly. The ice-pack dropped out of Sharlotte's hand and she squealed and giggled while trying desperately to pull his hands away from her middle.

"John!...Stop!…" she begged through her gasps and giggles.

"Then finish what you were going to say," John insisted, all the while laughing at her struggles to stop him.

"Okay…_Okay_!"

Her last squeal was frantic, so John took pity on her and finally ceased the tickling.

"Just…g-give…me a second to…catch…breath…" she replied laughing. She playfully slugged him on the shoulder and took a few deep breaths.

"You wouldn't be stalling for time, now would you," John teasingly threatened, and raised his hands again.

"NO," Sharlotte almost yelled, curling her arms around herself to protect her midsection from another attack. "I'll tell you now."

John leaned in closer and smiled, "I'm listening."

Sharlotte blushed and avoided eye contact with him, "I was going to say…I hated the fact that you were married to such a hateful shrew." At seeing a twinkle enter his eyes, she continued. "You deserve so much better and… And it makes me sad."

He tilted her chin upward with his finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. His face was more serious now.

"It makes me sad too," he admitted. "I don't know if I _deserve_ better, but I'd sure _hoped_ for better. I wanted someone kind and sweet. Someone loving and selfless. Someone who had inner beauty as well as outer beauty. Someone a lot like…" he hesitated then, as if something had occurred to him, and he dropped his gaze.

Sharlotte timidly lifted her hand to his face and urged him to look at her, "Tell me," she whispered. "I won't get mad at you either, I promise." She'd meant to sound teasing, but her voice trembled with emotion instead.

John smiled faintly, gave her a slight nod and then prepared to speak his mind as he moved his face closer to hers. He heard her intake of breath as he whispered, "I'd hoped for someone like-"

"Aunt Sharlotte?"

They both froze then looked to the kitchen's doorway. Noah stood in the entryway, looking at them.

The young boy nearly swallowed his tongue.

"John Cena's in our house?!"

"Hey Noah," John greeted with a smile. "How are ya, bud?"

The boy was nearly speechless. He rubbed at his eyes and took a better look at his aunt and John. "How…why…when did you get here," he asked John.

Chuckling, John replied, "About a half hour ago. I have to be at a house show tomorrow night in Dallas, so I thought I'd get an early start out there, and come for a visit on the way."

"Why didn't you wake me up," Noah asked Sharlotte. "I would've missed out on meeting him."

"He's staying the night, sweetie. You would have met him in the morning. I would've woken you up if he was leaving later tonight."

Noah nodded, "Oh. Okay." He smiled then. "So, will you sleep in my room, John?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sharlotte cut in with a smile. "You would stay up all night talking to him and then neither of you would get any sleep. What with the drive John has ahead of him tomorrow, he's going to need some rest."

Noah frowned slightly, "Okay."

"I'll come visit again soon, bud. Okay," John said with a smile. "We'll get to hang out, don't worry."

Noah grinned back, "Sounds like a plan!"

They all three laughed as Sharlotte turned to the sink and emptied out the melted remnants of her ice pack.

"So where will John sleep," Noah asked, his forehead wrinkling with concern. "The sofa isn't big enough for him."

"Oh, yeah…well…he'll…" Sharlotte stuttered, trying to find an answer. He obviously couldn't sleep with her in her room. That wouldn't send an appropriate message to Noah.

_But then I couldn't say he'll sleep in Julie's room because having a stranger sleeping in his mom's room would get Noah suspicious since she was usually home and in bed by eight…And I just _can't_ tell him about Julie leaving tonight._

This gave her a new worry.

_How in the world will I break the news to him_?

She finally had to brush her fears aside for her mind's sake and answered Noah. "I'll sleep in Julie's room and John can sleep in mine." She glanced over at him, "You need to get back to bed, kiddo. You do have school tomorrow."

"Ah, man…" Noah groaned. "Total bummer!"

Sharlotte chuckled, "I know, but I just have to be at work tomorrow, Noah. I can't afford to lose any more time." She walked over to him and gave him a hug. "Do you want me to come up with you and get you settled in?"

Noah started to nod, but then she could clearly see his mental gears turning. "Well, since you already did earlier…would it be okay if John did it?"

She ruffled his hair and smiled, "Well, I don't know. That's up to John." She looked over at John then. "Is that okay with you?"

He smiled, "Of course. In fact, kiddo, I'll do ya one better…" he crouched down in front of Noah then, "Grab on and I'll give you a piggyback ride up there."

"Awesome," Noah grinned. He latched his arms around the large man's neck, and then John stood to his feet with the boy clinging to him like a spider monkey.

"Hold on tight," John said teasingly and then headed out of the kitchen.

Sharlotte could hear Noah giggling the whole way. She smiled despite the depressing details she would have to give John when he came back down and they had their talk about her bruised face.

_Lord, help him to not pity me_. _I could handle him being understanding and sympathetic, but I just couldn't take it if he began pitying me. It would be too humiliating._

Worrying over how she'd explain everything to John, she walked over to the refrigerator to see what she could fix for them to eat.


	12. Chapter 12

**Rating: R **(Shouldn't reach "R" proportions [definitely not sexually], but am putting "R" just to be safe)  
**Story Contents/Warnings: **Violence and some adult-ish situations (heavy make-out sessions—no sex descriptions. There may be sex involved in the story, but it will not be descriptive)  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :) Hope this newest chapter is enjoyed. For some reason, I struggled getting it written! :(

_**Chapter Twelve**_

"Be ready on the count of three, okay?"

Noah giggled loudly from atop John's broad shoulders and nodded, "Yep!"

"Okay. One…two…three! Attitude Adjustment comin' up!"

John squatted down slightly, and then very gently flipped Noah over his shoulders, depositing the child safely onto his bed.

The boy giggled hysterically as he bounced a couple times on his bed. "Awesome!"

John laughed, "That's not usually what my opponents say."

"I bet not," Noah grinned in agreement, flashing a dimple in his cheek. "Since they aren't landing on mattresses!"

John laughed again as he crouched by the bed so he wouldn't tower over Noah. He couldn't help taking an instant liking to the boy. He was obviously a bright, fun-loving and good-mannered kid. "No, canvas is a far cry from a soft bed. Although, that's how me and my brothers wrestled when we were kids. We'd all get our mattresses lined up on the floor in one of our rooms, and have our own wrestling matches."

"Cool," Noah exclaimed, his blue eyes lighting up with excitement. "I want to try-"

"Oh, no you don't," came Sharlotte's teasing voice from the doorway. "Do _not_ get any ideas, Noah Taylor."

"Uh, oh," John whispered to Noah, a twinkle in his eyes. "Party pooper alert."

"I heard that, John."

Noah giggled and watched for the wrestler's reaction.

John winked at the boy then turned his head and smiled angelically at Sharlotte. "Are you mad? How much trouble am I in?"

"Now, how could I be mad at a man with those dimples," she flirted in return. "Actually I'm almost finished fixing a snack in the kitchen, if you're hungry."

Blushing as a result of Sharlotte's compliment, John replied with a grin, "Okay, I'll be down in a minute. Just let me say goodnight to Noah."

"Okay." Her gaze shifted to her nephew then. "Goodnight, Noah. Don't keep him up here all night, okay?"

"I won't," the boy laughed. "Goodnight, Aunt Sharlotte. Love you."

"I love you too, baby." With that, she then turned and headed for the stairs.

"She likes you, ya know," Noah reported once he was sure his aunt was completely out of earshot.

"Oh, yeah?" John turned his attention back to Noah. "How can you tell?"

"You called her earlier today didn't you—while we were out buying my cell phone?"

"Yeah," he answered, unsure of where the kid was heading.

"Well, I saw her face when she looked at her Caller ID. She looked happy—_really_ happy."

"Well, I'm glad," John said softly. "I'm always happy when I get to talk to her."

"Do _you_ like _her_?"

_This kid's sure putting me in the hot seat_, he thought amusedly. He tried to appear relaxed, and simply shrugged, unsure of how much information he could trust the boy with. "Sure, I like her. She's a good friend to have," he hedged. He glanced around the boy's room and admired a collection of unopened wrestling action figures that were set up on a large table in the corner of the bedroom. He made an attempt to get Noah's mind off the subject at hand. "You've got a great room, bud. I like your collection of action figures over there."

The boy nodded, "Thanks." He paused a moment before asking, "Do you think Aunt Sharlotte's pretty?"

"Of course," John exclaimed with a smile. "Don't you?"

"Definitely," Noah returned. "I just wondered what you thought."

"She's a beautiful young woman, with a kind heart. And I'm very glad I met her," John replied with a smile. "That's what I think."

Noah nodded again, but persisted, "I promise I won't tell her if you like her. And I keep my promises."

John decided to be honest with him, and shook his head, "I don't know for sure, Noah. I mean, I like her for a friend definitely, and I _do_ know I am attracted to her. But I'm just going to enjoy our friendship for now, and see what happens. You can't hurry things like this. Remember that, kiddo. Don't _ever_ rush into anything. Always think things through and be sure of what you're doing. I had to learn that the hard way, believe me."

"Okay," Noah yawned, his eyes growing heavy. "I'll remember."

"Good," John smiled and pulled the bed covers up around the boy, tucking him in. "Sleep well, Noah. I'll see you in the morning."

"Promise?"

"Absolutely," he replied, playfully tapping the boy's dimpled chin with his knuckle. "And I keep my promises too."

"I know you do," Noah smiled. "Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight, bud," John replied, reaching up and clicking off the bedside lamp as the young boy turned onto his side and closed his eyes.

John left the room then, pulling the door closed behind him. As he headed down the staircase, he could hear the light clatter of plates being set on a table. He crossed the living room to enter the kitchen and immediately caught the aroma of melted cheese. His stomach immediately growled in response.

"Yum, what smells so good," he asked, catching sight of Sharlotte stooped over at the refrigerator.

She pulled out a couple cans of diet soda and raised up to face him, a smile lighting up her face. "Cheese nachos with a couple other ingredients," she replied. "Does that sound okay?"

"Sounds _great_," John replied. "I didn't eat much earlier today, so I'm pretty hungry now."

"Why didn't you eat much," Sharlotte asked, setting the cans of soda on the kitchen table. "You're not sick, are you?" She reached up and placed her hand against his forehead, testing for fever.

"No," he replied, flustered by the feel of her hand on his face. "I sort of…just lost my appetite, I guess."

"Something wrong," she asked, and motioned for him to sit down with her at the table. "I hope diet soda is okay. I don't keep alcohol in the house because I don't drink."

"No problem," John said. "I don't drink quite as much as I used to anyway." He sat down and popped open the can of soda, taking a sip. "And nothing's wrong…_now_," he answered her initial question. "I just…saw something online that kind of scared me, to be honest."

"Oh, no," she said, "Is it about your wife?"

He shook his head chuckling, "No, nothing like that. I… Well, after I found out you were an Olympian, I looked you up on Youtube."

Sharlotte appeared puzzled as she began placing chips on their plates. "And that scared you? How so?"

"I saw your fall, Sharlotte."

Her hands shook slightly as she picked up a package of shredded cheddar cheese. "Oh." She sprinkled the cheese in addition to the already melted cheese which covered the chips, and then set the package down. "How bad did it look?"

"You've never seen it," John asked, not hiding the astonishment in his voice.

She shook her head, "No. I couldn't bear to see it."

"Well, it was…bad," he said carefully. "I initially headed here because…the sight of you lying on that ice…I just needed to see you," he finished, unable to explain in words the true need to see her. "But then, I was about halfway to Tallahassee when I felt something else…like _you_ needed to see _me_.

Sharlotte finished sprinkling some black olives over their cheese nachos and then picked up a container of non-fat sour cream and a spoon. She managed to meet his gaze and nodded, "I did." She spooned a dollop of sour cream onto her nachos, and then did the same for his. "My sister and I…we had a big fight about Noah." She paused, then asked softly, "Would you mind if I ask a blessing over our food? I don't feel right eating if I don't."

"Of course, I don't mind," John answered. He took her hand even before she reached for his, and they bowed their heads together.

"Dear heavenly Father, please bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies. Lord, we thank you for everything You've blessed us with. I want to also thank You for bringing John's friendship into my life. I pray, Father, that You be with him tomorrow and give him safe traveling mercies as he drives to Dallas. And please protect him from injury during his match or any segments tomorrow night. In Jesus' name, I pray, Amen."

Sharlotte heard John softly utter, "Amen." Then she lifted her head and opened her eyes to find John gazing at her, a warm smile on his face.

"Thank you," he whispered, still holding onto her hand. He brought it to his lips and brushed a kiss over the back of it. "I don't recall anyone ever praying for me before. Well…with the exception of my family, of course."

Sharlotte flushed from the feel of his lips on her skin, and smiled at him. She squeezed his hand and said softly, "Well, get used to it, Champ. Because I always keep you in my prayers." She saw his cheeks redden then, and she playfully punched his shoulder, "Eat up. The food will get cold."

They each bit into a cheese-saturated chip and savored the flavor of the melted and shredded cheese.

"Okay, this is really good," John said, swallowing a bite. "I'm a cheese-lover. This is perfect."

"Thanks," she chuckled. "I'm a cheese addict myself, so I've always made nachos with melted and shredded cheeses both. It makes the cheese yummier."

John nodded in agreement, dipping into a dollop of his sour cream. "So, are you ready to tell me about the fight?"

Sharlotte swallowed a bite of food and reached for a napkin. Nodding hesitantly, she wiped her mouth. "Basically, my sister…" She wavered and shook her head. "Even now, I don't know what really happened. It all started back about a month ago—when I was called to Noah's school about the bullying situation. Noah hadn't wanted to fight, and technically he didn't. One boy held him down while another hit him over and over. Noah told me he only kicked out with his leg one time. He connected with one of the boys' knees, so he got in trouble along with the two bullies." She paused to take a sip of her diet drink. "Anyway, when I tried to explain to my sister what happened, she wouldn't listen. All she heard was that Noah had fought. She permanently grounded him from everything to do with wrestling. She was even going to send him to bed that night without dinner. I made it clear I'd not have that."

"Good," John interjected. "Depriving a child of food is abuse, in my eyes."

"That's what I told her," Sharlotte agreed. "Our dad used to do the same thing to her, so I guess the cycle was threatening to repeat itself. Anyway, I got fed up, and told Noah to start watching wrestling again. It probably wasn't the wisest decision I've ever made, but I was tired of watching Noah suffer just because my sister had become…well, _mean_, for lack of a better word."

"So was that the yelling I heard during our Skype session," John asked, taking another bite of his nachos.

She nodded, "Yes. She woke up and found Noah watching TNA in the living room. That's when I cut our conversation short and ran downstairs to talk to her." She shook her head then, finding it difficult to tell John about the next part. "She drew her hand back and was about to slap him. I stopped her and sent Noah up to his room so he wouldn't be subjected to anymore abuse. Then…it really got terrible."

"You can tell me," John whispered, taking her hand in his.

"I know," she replied softly. "It's just hard."

"Take your time."

Sharlotte nodded and took a deep breath. "She accused me of taking over as Noah's mother. She threw in my face that Noah was her son, and not mine—which is true, but the way she said it was just horrible. She told me if I wanted a kid to screw up, to go have one of my own." Tears welled up in her eyes at the memory. "I _want_ children of my own. But I just haven't been able to…to meet anyone, let alone settle down and get married. I've been too busy with other things, and taking care of things around here." She sighed, "And then I feel horrible because it sounds like I resent it all—and I don't. I love Noah so much. I guess I'm kind of jealous of my sister because she has such a great kid. I raised him for the most part, but at the end of the day he's her son, not mine."

"I'm sorry," John said softly, reaching up and brushing some tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "That was very wrong of her to treat you like that."

She met John's gaze and stifled a panic-stricken sob. "I've not even told you the worst part yet."

"What is it," he asked. "Get it all out, sweetie. You'll feel better."

"She left us."

"What," John asked, "She left? Like…for good?"

Sharlotte nodded, fighting off more tears. "Yes. She left, along with her income. So now it's up to me solely to make sure Noah's taken care of."

"Well…he seems to be taking it well…" John stated, having a strong suspicion he was_ still _yet to hear the worst part.

She shook her head then. "No. He doesn't know yet. He was already asleep when I found the note she left on her bed earlier."

"Oh, my God," John said, leaning back in his chair. "How could she do that to you guys?"

"I don't know," Sharlotte said, trying not to dwell on it right before going to sleep. She propped her chin on her hand. "I have no idea how to tell Noah." She looked up at John then, "Do you think it would be horrible of me to wait till I get home from work tomorrow?"

He shook his head, "I don't think so. It'll be rough on him no matter how you slice it, but sending him off to school with that kind of news could be even more traumatic."

"I thought so too," She agreed. "It's going to be so hard to tell him, John." She shook her head, "How do you tell a child that his mother abandoned him? What if he worries that she didn't love him? Because I know she did…she just had some problems going on."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," John said, standing to his feet. He tugged on her hand and urged her to stand as well. "I'm so sorry." He pulled her into his embrace and hugged her close. "I have no idea what to say. But I'm here for you. If you need anything—anything at all, do not hesitate to call me. I'll do anything I can to help you guys."

Sharlotte rested her head against his shoulder, "Thank you so much. You don't know how you've helped already. I know we haven't known each other for very long…we don't know a whole lot about each other, but-"

"I don't think that matters," he cut her off. "Sometimes, you just…know a person. I feel like I've known you for years. No, we've not divulged a lot of information about ourselves, but that's only because we've not had much time to do that yet. We'll get to as time progresses."

"I feel like I've known you for years too," Sharlotte replied with a soft smile. "And I look forward to learning more about you."

"Likewise," John returned, brushing a lock of her hair over her shoulder. "I'm really glad I came here."

His hand lingered at her shoulder and Sharlotte felt his fingers rest on her neck, his thumb stroking over her jawbone. Then his hand moved upward and cupped her cheek. She couldn't help herself as she dreamily closed her eyes, leaning into the caress.

John smiled, enjoying her reaction to his touch.

Sharlotte spoke softly then, "I think we should go to bed."

Immediately, she realized what she said, and her eyes shot open to find John's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Oh, my God," she cried, jumping back. Her hand shot to her mouth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean that the way it sounded, I promise. I can't believe I said that, I'm so sorry, John," she apologized profusely.

He chuckled, and shook his head. "It's okay, Sharlotte. I didn't truly think you meant it in an inappropriate way." He laughed then, "But it _is_ pretty funny."

"Oh, shut up," she joined in the laughter then and slugged his arm. "I meant we should each go to separate bedrooms, of course. I'm not that kind of gal," she giggled in embarrassment.

"I know."

Her gaze lifted to his face and she saw his mood had shifted to serious.

"I can see you are a very honorable young woman," he said softly. "I would never think of you as promiscuous."

She nodded and smiled shyly, "Thank you." Fidgeting, she began taking the plates and dishes off the table and dumped the contents down the garbage disposal. "I'll just put the dishes in the dishwasher, and I'll show you where you'll sleep."

John stepped in and began helping her load the dishes. Once they were finished and Sharlotte had the kitchen table wiped down with a sponge, she took his hand.

"Come on. Let's go get your bag and I'll show you to my room."

John let her lead him to the hall to retrieve his suitcase, and then he followed her up the stairs and down the hallway, stopping at the first door on the right.

"And this is it," Sharlotte said, opening the door and allowing him to go inside. "Sorry the bed is a tad messed up, but I'd already been asleep."

"No problem," John said, pushing his rolling suitcase up against the wall. "It looks really cozy and comfortable."

She smiled, "Good, I'm glad. Well, let me grab my toothpaste and toothbrush out of my bathroom, and I'll be out of your hair." She hurried into her private bathroom, and grabbed her toiletries. "I'll be two more doors down, on the left—if you need anything," she said, after she came back out.

John nodded, "And _I'll_ be here, if _you_ need anything."

"Thank you," she replied softly. "I can't thank you enough for tonight." She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him closely. She felt his arms go securely around her waist, and gave in to the impulse of giving him a kiss. She brushed her lips over his cheek, "Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight, sweetie," John whispered, secretly wishing the kiss had been on his mouth. It left him wanting more from her. "Get some rest."

Sharlotte nodded, "I will. You do the same." She smiled softly and then left, heading for the main bathroom to brush her teeth.

_Lord, thank you for such a gift tonight_, she prayed silently as she squeezed some toothpaste on to her brush. _I really needed it_. _I don't know how I'd have gotten through tonight without someone to talk to. And for it to be John, I'm so grateful. Thank you again, Lord. Amen._

She finished scrubbing her mouth, and headed for her sister's bedroom. Within minutes, she was under the covers and fell into an exhausted sleep.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

John awoke abruptly to the mixed sounds of soft sobs and rapid footfalls in the hallway. He shot out of the bed and noted the time on the alarm clock on the night table.

_Four A.M._, he thought. _What in the world… _

Opening the door, he stepped out into the hall. He heard heavy breathing coming from the other end of the long corridor, and headed in that direction. He noticed both Noah's door and the door to Sharlotte's sister's room were open. Making his way to the end of the hallway, he saw Sharlotte emerge from Noah's room closing his door behind her. Her hand was over her mouth and she looked as though she would be sick as she moved to enter her sister's room.

"Sharlotte," John whispered, approaching her. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

She turned to face him and shook her head, "I'm fine. It's stupid… I'm fine, really." Her eyes were slightly glazed as if she'd just awoken only seconds prior, and her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to control her breathing.

"It's not stupid if it made you this upset," he said softly. He reached up and touched her face. "And you're sweating. What's happened, Sharlotte?"

She shook her head again, "I just had a bad dream. Noah had run away…to find his mom. It was so real…I didn't wake up till I was in the hallway," she confessed. "I had literally gotten out of bed and opened the bedroom door while I was asleep. Thank goodness I didn't wake him."

"You were sleepwalking," John asked. "That's not good."

"I've never done it before," she said. "I hope I don't make a habit of it."

"So do I." John thought for a moment, and then took her hand. "Come on," he coaxed, "Come stay with me."

"No," Sharlotte immediately protested. "That's not a good message to give Noah…"

"Does he have a habit of walking into your room or his mother's room without knocking?"

"No, but-"

"I thought not. Come on. It'll be okay."

"But what if he finds out somehow?"

"Then we'll tell him the truth. You had a nightmare and were upset, so I insisted on staying with you, so you wouldn't have any more bad dreams."

Sharlotte seemed to hesitate a little longer, but slowly caved as John began leading her back to her bedroom. "O-okay…I'll just try to get up early enough so he doesn't find out."

"You need some sleep," John replied. "If anyone gets up early, it'll be me."

"No," She protested as they entered the room. "You're the guest. That isn't fair to you." She watched as he shut the door and then walked straight over to her. "Plus, you have a long drive tomorrow-"

She was silenced as John's finger pressed against her lips.

"I'm rested," he interrupted. "You're the one going through a rough time right now-"

"So…are…you…" Sharlotte struggled to speak around his finger.

He chuckled at her attempts, "Don't argue with me, woman. Get your butt in the bed. Now. "

She flushed, and still hesitated. Before she could say anything else, John bent and scooped her up into his arms.

"John!" She gasped and reflexively wrapped her arms around his neck. She was aware of his skin against hers and immediately felt the need to cover herself.

"I told you not to argue with me," he chuckled softly, as he carried her to the bed. "I always win."

"I'm sorry," Sharlotte said softly, her mind on her lack of clothes. She looked down at herself self-consciously, "I'm not dressed very appropriately. I should put something on over this-"

"Don't worry about it," John said smiling as he laid her down on the bed. "You look stunning." He couldn't deny the fact that he loved how she looked in the spaghetti-strapped nightgown she wore. The pastel pink satin combined with her pale skin and blonde hair made her look like a beautiful porcelain doll.

Settling her underneath the covers, he went into her bathroom and quickly returned with a damp washcloth. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he placed it against her forehead, dabbing at the sweat dotting her hairline. He noticed her eyes were glued to his chest and shoulders then, and glanced downward. He instantly realized she was staring because he was shirtless and wore only a pair of sweat pants. "Do you want me to put on a shirt?"

Wordlessly, Sharlotte shook her head, and then shifted her gaze to his and saw the mischievous smile that stretched across his handsome face. She felt her face burning and avoided his eyes. "You have a great body, so sue me for ogling you a little bit," she laughed embarrassedly. "Up till now, I've only seen you on TV. And…"

"Is that a good 'and'," he asked softly.

"Of course," she exclaimed. "The 'and' is—you're even more gorgeous in person," she finished shyly.

John turned her face back to his and stared into her gray eyes. "So are you." He leaned down, closing his eyes, and Sharlotte was sure he was about to kiss her.

And he did.

On her forehead.

Then he climbed into bed beside her and settled himself against the soft pillows.

Forcing herself to ignore the crashing sensation of disappointment, she turned onto her side and watched him a moment before speaking softly.

"Do you think Noah will be okay?"

John pulled her against him and held her close. "Of course. This will be rough on him, I'm sure. But he has an amazing aunt who'll do anything for him. He'll be fine. And don't worry about your dream," he told her. "That kid loves you too much to put you through that kind of fear."

Sharlotte looked up at him, "I know he does. But I know he loves his mother too."

"I'm sure he does. But I still highly doubt he'd do that to you."

She nodded, "You're right." She yawned then. "Thank you for sleeping with me." She smacked her forehead at hearing John's chuckle. "I have to stop doing that," she laughed softly. "You know what I mean. Thanks for _staying_ with me."

John laughed again, "You're welcome, sweetie. Now get some sleep. I'm not going anywhere." To prove his point, he pulled her closer and stroked his hand over her back.

"You're going to spoil me," she smiled sleepily, and draped herself across his chest, laying her head on his shoulder. "Does this bother you?"

"Not in the least, beautiful," he replied contentedly. "Not in the least."

Sighing quietly, Sharlotte gradually slid back into sleep, feeling John's lips brush over her temple as she faded away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Rating: R **(Shouldn't reach "R" proportions [definitely not sexually], but am putting "R" just to be safe)  
**Story Contents/Warnings: **Violence and some adult-ish situations (heavy make-out sessions—no sex descriptions. There may be sex involved in the story, but it will not be descriptive)  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

John slowly woke to the feel of Sharlotte shifting in his arms. He opened his eyes against the bright morning light and looked down at her, pulling her closer to his large frame. Her neck settled onto the crook of his arm, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She snuggled against him as a soft sigh of contentment escaped her lips and brushed over his skin while he gazed at her.

She looked like a sleeping angel, and John didn't think he'd seen a woman more beautiful. That fact struck him as odd however, because normally the innocent and angelic type had never caught his eye before.

But Sharlotte had.

_Maybe I'm maturing in my old age_, he joked with himself.

Smiling, he brushed some of Sharlotte's light golden hair over her shoulder and traced his finger down the length of her nose, and over her mouth. Touching her soft lips, he ached to kiss her. He'd been dying to since he first saw her on the porch hours before.

Briefly thinking it over, he finally gave in to the temptation and dipped his head down, slowly closing the gap between their faces. His lips had hardly even brushed over hers when he heard a door shut from the hallway, and then Noah's voice calling for his aunt.

"Aunt Sharlotte?"

Inwardly groaning, John got out of the bed carefully so as not to wake her and hurried out the bedroom door. The slight sweep of his mouth across Sharlotte's had caused more frustration than if he'd not tried to kiss her at all.

Closing the bedroom door behind him, he instantly spotted Noah down the hall about to knock on Sharlotte's sister's bedroom door.

"Pssst!"

Once he got Noah's attention, he beckoned for the boy to come over to him.

"John? What is it," Noah asked softly, seeming to know instinctively that he shouldn't speak loudly.

"Your aunt had a rough time getting some sleep last night, so I thought I'd let her get some extra rest while I fix you guys some breakfast," John explained. "So try not to wake her, okay?"

The boy nodded and then looked suspiciously at John. "How do you know she had a rough night?" His blue eyes lit up with a realization then. "Did you guys sleep in the same room," he asked incredulously.

Not wanting to cause Sharlotte to feel shame, he told a half-truth. "Yes, bud. We did. But I slept on the floor." He felt bad for the lie, but he didn't want Noah to think his aunt had weakened in her morals and done something she viewed as inappropriate.

"Oh," Noah said, unsure of how to respond.

John, feeling as though he should do some potential damage control, crouched down to Noah's level. "Don't worry, Noah. I would never do anything to hurt your aunt, or to dishonor her, or take advantage of her. I wouldn't do anything to make you guys think less of me, I promise."

"I know," Noah smiled, a dimple appearing in each of his cheeks. "It just kind of shocked me for a minute. Aunt Sharlotte's just always been really…careful when it comes to…things like that."

"And she still is," John told Noah, ruffling his hair. "She had a nightmare and I had to insist on staying with her."

"A nightmare," Noah asked. "What kind of nightmare?"

Knowing that revealing the dream to Noah would spill the beans about the boy's mother, John hedged around the question with a cautious answer. "Well, she wouldn't really tell me about it. I just saw how it affected her. I didn't want her to be alone."

The boy seemed satisfied with John's answer and nodded. "She tries to be strong, even when she's worried about stuff. She won't let me try to help her. And then that makes _me_ worry about _her_."

"Well, you're still a kid, bud," John replied. "You're too young to take on adult worries."

"That's what she tells me," Noah smiled softly.

"And you should listen to her," John smiled back. "Now, what do you say to breakfast? What foods do you like?"

"I usually eat breakfast at school so I don't miss the bus."

A twinkle appeared in John's eyes then. "Well, how about you go upstairs and get ready for school while I whip something up? And if you miss the bus, I'll drive you to school."

"Really," the boy cried. "That'd be awesome!"

John laughed, "Alright then. What sounds good to ya? Do you like eggs? Pancakes? French toast?"

"French Toast sounds really good," Noah answered, already dashing up the stairs to get ready for school. "Thanks, John!"

Suspecting that Noah would indeed be late for the bus, John chuckled and headed into the kitchen. He began hunting for the ingredients he needed for the French toast, grabbing eggs, milk, and a loaf of white bread from the refrigerator. He set the different items on the countertop and then he was searching the seasoning rack on the wall for ginger and cinnamon.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte gradually roused from her deep sleep with a smile on her face. She stretched with a soft groan and managed to open her eyes in spite of the gleaming sunlight filtering into her bedroom.

Instantly, she realized John was gone from her bed and she sat straight up.

_Oh, no. I dreamed the whole thing_, she thought, completely mortified. _He wasn't even here_.

She was completely puzzled. She could recall vague memories of John's voice whispering softly to her as she slept, the feel of his fingers tracing parts of her face, his lips brushing over hers. But then she froze.

"That can't be," she whispered, a blush of embarrassment creeping up her face. She touched her fingers to her lips at the faint recollection. "He wouldn't have…" She rolled her eyes then. "He _couldn't_ have, because he wasn't here." She shook her head and rubbed her temples with her fingers. "I need to get a grip."

She became aware of the faint scent of cinnamon permeating the air then. Mystified, she lifted her head and sniffed the air. And that was when she spotted John's black, rolling suitcase in the corner of the room.

"Oh, my God."

Her heart soaring at the notion that John had indeed been with her, she jumped out of bed and grabbed her robe, pulling it on as she flew down the stairs. She ran into the kitchen to find John flipping some slices of French toast on a griddle.

He glanced up at her and smiled. "Good morning, beautiful. Get some sleep?"

Smiling happily, she nodded, "Actually, I did. Thank you for staying with me."

"I was happy to," John returned her smile. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," Sharlotte replied. She gazed longingly at the French toast. "It smells delicious."

"The Cena Family recipe," John grinned with a flash of his dimples. "My mom taught me how to make it when I was younger."

"Well, I can't wait to eat it," Sharlotte said as John dished the food onto two plates. She glanced around the large room and then looked overhead. "Where's Noah?"

"I fixed his breakfast earlier and then I drove him to school," John answered. He placed the two plates of French toast on the table and then grabbed some heated maple syrup from the microwave.

"You didn't have to go to so much trouble," Sharlotte said, sitting down at the table.

"Don't be silly," John replied, also sitting down. "It was no trouble at all." He took her hand then. "Want to ask the blessing?"

Sharlotte smiled, touched that he remembered such an important detail about her—and that he respected it.

They each bowed their heads and Sharlotte said grace before their meal. Then they began to eat the tender, sweet French toast.

"This is amazing," Sharlotte said, after swallowing another bite. "So yummy."

"Thanks," John said, pleased with her reaction to the food. "Oh, before I forget, you should probably re-hide your spare house key. I didn't want to leave you here alone and asleep with the door unlocked. So, Noah told me where the key was before I drove him to school so I could get back into the house when I came back."

Sharlotte smiled, "There's no need for me to re-hide the key. I trust you." She could have sworn she saw a blush creeping up the wrestler's handsome face, so she changed the subject. "So, did Noah find out about us sleeping in the same room?"

John swallowed a bite of his food and nodded.

"Yeah, he did. But I handled it well. I told him you had a nightmare and couldn't sleep so I insisted on staying with you. I fibbed a bit also, and told him I slept on the floor."

"Thank you," Sharlotte said softly. "Did he believe you?"

"Yep," John answered. "I let him know I'd never do anything to dishonor you or hurt you."

A tinge of pink lit Sharlotte's face up and she swallowed another bite of French toast, then smiled. "I'm sure he knows that. He's looked up to you for a long time."

"Oh, yeah," John chuckled. "_How_ long?"

"Since you were drafted to RAW in 2005. His hero worship intensified when WWE became PG-rated and-."

"And?"

"And…I allowed him to watch more of you," Sharlotte said softly, avoiding John's eyes.

"Ohhh, I get it," John said teasingly. "I was too…_explicit_, huh?"

"A…a tad," she admitted. "I'm sorry. I'm just really careful about what I let him-"

"It's okay, Sharlotte," John said softly. He reached over and tilted her chin upward, making her meet his gaze. "I know I was pretty foul-mouthed back then. In fact, I can _still_ have a foul mouth. And I didn't have the best manners. I definitely wasn't kid-friendly. So you didn't upset me or hurt my feelings."

She smiled shyly, "I'm glad. I'd hate to think I did." She forked up another bite of food and looked sad then. "So, what time do you have to leave?"

"Trying to get rid of me already?"

She nearly swallowed her tongue, "No! Of course not! Almost the opposite in fact," she chuckled. "I'm…I'm afraid I'm going to miss you already." A deep blush crept up her face. "That sounds crazy doesn't it?"

"Well, if you're crazy, then so am I. Because I _know_ I'm going to miss you."

She smiled and tried to hide the excessive moisture welling up in her eyes. A single tear fell down her cheek despite her efforts, and she looked down at her hands as she flushed a deeper shade of pink.

"Sharlotte, look at me."

She met his gaze and tried to discretely brush away another tear that fell. John caught her hand in his and reached up, brushing the tears away himself.

"I'm sorry," Sharlotte whispered.

"Shh," John shushed her gently. "You've done nothing to be sorry about. I hate that you're sad about my leaving, but I have to admit that I'm glad you care that much."

"Of course I care," she replied. "You've been a life-saver, John. You've become such a good friend in such a short time. And that's why I feel like I've gone crazy—because we don't even know anything about each other, really."

"Hey…we _will_. We'll learn more about each other in time. Now, stop this 'crazy' talk. Neither of us is crazy," he informed her. He stood and pulled her to her feet so he could hug her. Tightening his arms around her, he spoke softly, "When you sent me that first tweet I knew you'd be someone special in my life from then on."

Sharlotte sniffled back more tears, and chuckled as she pressed her face into his chest, "John, stop…you're going to make me cry more."

"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling back to look into her face. "This isn't 'goodbye'. It's just 'I'll see you again soon'."

"I wish it was," Sharlotte sighed softly, "but…"

"But what," John asked patiently.

"I can't be selfish, John," she said, meeting his gaze. "You don't get very much free time, and when you _do_ have free time, you should do things you want to do—be with your family, grant wishes to children, and-"

"Listen to me," John said, tilting her chin upward. "I do enjoy those things, and I _will_ continue to do them. But now I have something new to enjoy. Our friendship. And I promise to keep in touch with you, and visit with you and Noah as much as I can."

Sharlotte managed a shy smile, "Well, I appreciate that, and I look forward to getting to see you. But do NOT tire yourself out by trying to keep up with visiting us and your job and other things you have to do." She paused and then added, "I don't see how you do it all. It exhausts me just to think about it."

"It's in the Cena blood," John chuckled. "We're all naturally restless."

"Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will, baby. I always do."

"Need I remind you of your broken neck," she asked, meeting his gaze.

"That was an accident," he said, amusedly eyeing her raised eyebrow. "And I've been very careful with my neck ever since."

"It scared me to death when I saw it happen," she told him. "I thought… I was worried because..."

"You thought I'd never wrestle again?"

Sharlotte shook her head slightly, "No, not that. I mean, I worried about it for _you_ because I know wrestling's your life. But I was more worried about _you_—you're health and safety. And after the news came out about your neck injury, I kept seeing online articles stating you'd been in so much pain for a long while—even _before_ you broke your neck—and…" She cut off then, a lump forming in her throat. She swallowed hard and tried again. "I just wanted you to feel better quickly."

John smiled slightly, and tweaked her chin with his thumb and finger. "And I did. You don't have to worry about me, Sharlotte. I'm not glass."

"I know you're not," she replied. "But it doesn't stop me from worrying about you." She hugged him again, laying her head on his shoulder. She giggled then as she caught the scent of his cologne. "You smell _really_ good."

He loved the sound of her happy giggles. And he loved the fact he was able to bring them out of her. Chuckling, he said, "Thanks. You smell pretty nice yourself."

The truth was she smelled amazing. And it was beginning to be very difficult to keep from kissing her. And while he was pretty sure she wouldn't mind a kiss, he knew where kissing would lead…or rather where he'd _want_ kissing to lead. But he also knew Sharlotte wasn't that kind of woman.

Feeling frustrated yet again, John pulled away, "Well, I hate to…but I think it's time for me to get going."

Sharlotte's eyes dimmed with sudden sadness, but she quickly recovered and smiled at him. "Okay."

"I wish I could stay," he said softly.

_I really do_, he thought incredulously. _I've _never_ met anyone who tempted me to miss a night of work._ _Not even Amy_—_even_ _in the beginning of our relationship_—_affected me that way_.

Sharlotte nodded.

"You don't believe me," John said, more of a statement than a question.

"I…I'm not sure what to believe."

"I really do wish I could stay, beautiful. But if I don't leave now-"

"I know. You'll be late for rehearsals and mess up your schedule for the day. Not to mention possibly being late for the show-"

"I wasn't finished," John smiled as he cut off her chatter. "If I don't leave now, I'm afraid I'll do something I'd regret later."

Sharlotte's gray eyes lifted to meet his blue ones, "What d-do you m-mean? I mean…we've become friends—we have some sort of…connection. I know you wouldn't do anything that would-"

"I think there's more than friendship happening between us, Sharlotte. And it's definitely more than just a connection."

She swallowed hard, "Wha-what are you talking about?"

"I really want to kiss you." He watched as her hand rose nervously to her neck, and continued. "And then…I know what kissing you would make me want next. You're an honorable woman, therefore, I need to leave so I don't make you angry at-"

"John…Stop," she said softly. "You don't know what you're saying… I—You don't want-"

"I know exactly what I'm saying. And I know exactly what I want." He raised his hand to her face and brushed the back of his hand over her cheekbone. "I _will_ kiss you, Sharlotte—if you want me to, that is." He leaned closer toward her, inching his face nearer hers. He heard her breathing quicken. "Just…not today. I need to gain some control over myself. I'm afraid of what might happen if I kissed you right now." Seeing confusion in her eyes, he smiled softly and elaborated. "There's no subtle way to put this…If I kissed you right now, I'm afraid I'd have to fight off a _very_ strong urge to make love to you."

Sharlotte gasped then and took a step back and shook her head. Her breathing quickened and she managed to whisper, "N-no… John, I can't…"

"I know," John said softly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted you to know why I need to leave."

_I hope you haven't messed this up for yourself, Cena, _he scolded himself. He'd thought he should let Sharlotte know how he felt about her, but he wasn't too sure he'd made the right impression, despite trying to be honest. _I need to step back a bit_, he realized. _Take it slowly_ _and try to fix any damage I may have caused._

Sharlotte nodded shakily then, and took a tentative step toward him, her eyes wide with caution. "Is it…Can I hug you before you leave?"

"Of course," he answered, opening his arms to her. "And again, I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect or anything. I just needed to let you know how you affect me, so we can both be cautious. I don't want to do anything that would hurt you, or make you think less of me."

"You didn't hurt me," she assured him, stepping into his embrace. "And I don't think less of you." She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled against his chest. Feeling his arms close around her, she whispered, "I'll miss you, John."

"I'll miss you too, sweetie."

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, and brushed a light kiss over her forehead. "I'd better go up and get my suitcase."

Sharlotte nodded and watched as he headed for the stairs. A few seconds later, he returned and gave her a small smile. "I'll see you again soon. Remember, okay?"

She nodded again and managed to fight off more tears which threatened to spill from her eyes. "Thank you so much, for everything. And for breakfast," she added with a smile. "It was delicious."

"It was my pleasure," he said, giving her one last hug.

"And please…Call me when you get to Dallas. Let me know you got there safely," Sharlotte asked. "I'll worry if you don't," she threatened with an attempt at a smile.

"I promise," he said softly. "Just know it'll be a while. It's normally about an eight hour drive for me but I'll speed when I can…" He trailed off at seeing the worry cross her face. "Forget I said that," he chuckled. "I'll be fine, Sharlotte. But I will definitely call you the minute I reach Dallas. It'll probably be around four o'clock, your time."

"Okay, thank you."

John gave her a wink and flashed her a dimpled grin before turning and heading out the front door. A moment later, Sharlotte heard his car start and the crunch of gravel as he pulled out of the driveway.

Immediately she collapsed into her kitchen chair. Tears came instantly and she bowed her head in prayer.

"Dear Lord, please help me. I've fallen in love with John Cena. Please help me to steer clear of potential disasters."

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte walked into the library, trying in vain to clear her mind of everything but the workday she had ahead of her. She ducked into her office and closed the door behind her, hoping she'd have a few minutes to collect herself. So much had happened over the past three days. She was drained and felt as if she probably should have taken the day off so she'd have a three-day weekend to recoup. But she knew that wasn't an option. Not when Julie had left them high and dry. If anything, she would have to have to take on a second job rather than concern herself over her days off.

A knock at her door jarred her from her thoughts, and she reluctantly called, "Come in."

The door opened then, and Lana stepped into the office, "Hey girl! I thought I saw you come in-" She noticed her friend's bruised cheek underneath her make up then, "Oh, my God! What happened to you?"

Sharlotte sighed heavily, "I can't even begin to tell you right now, Lana. There's just _too much_ too tell. Can we take our lunch break together?"

Obviously curious and worried for her friend, Lana nodded, "Yeah, we have quite a few people working today, so it shouldn't be a problem." She glanced at her watch. "It's ten o'clock now, so we could probably go in the next couple hours."

Sharlotte nodded, "That will work."

"Can you at least tell me if everything's okay?"

Sharlotte met her friend's worried gaze and nodded slightly, "I'm trusting the Lord to work it together for my good," she answered, paraphrasing one of her favorite scriptures.

"He will, Sharlotte," Lana replied with an encouraging smile. "He will." Then she left her friend's office and let her get to work.

The next couple of hours flew by and the two women had lunch across the street at the café Sharlotte often frequented.

"Okay," Lana started, sitting down at a table and opening her bottle of water. "Tell me what happened?" She pushed her shoulder-length red hair over shoulders and leaned forward, ready to hear about Sharlotte's previous day.

Sharlotte unscrewed the cap on her bottle of Diet Snapple Peach Tea and took a sip, "I don't know where to begin." She paused a moment collecting her thoughts, and then began her tale of events from the day before. "Well, I called in yesterday to take care of Noah. He had another bullying incident, and I decided to give him a day to just enjoy himself. I took him out for some cell phone shopping and I got him the new WWE video game. We had lunch together too. I think he had a blast. But the problems began later on," she explained. "I received a threat over the phone to not take any legal action regarding Noah's bullying situation." She took a quick bite of her salad, and then continued after swallowing the food. "John said he'd take care of it by getting _Be A Star_ involved-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lana interrupted. "How does he come in to play in all this," she asked, unable to keep up with the rapid succession of events.

"We were Skyping," Sharlotte answered. "Sorry, I forgot to mention that John had called me and asked if I wanted to Skype with him later in the day."

Lana almost choked on a bite of pineapple. "Oh, my God," she said loudly. "Unbelievable!"

Sharlotte nodded, "Just hang with me, or I'll never get this all told in our one-hour lunch break," she managed a chuckle.

"Wow…do I need to fasten my seatbelt," Lana joked.

"You might consider it," Sharlotte replied. _Especially when she finds out about John staying over at my house last night._ "Anyway, there's the bullying situation I dealt with, but then there's some other stuff too."

"Like?"

"I over-rode Julie's decision to ground Noah from any wrestling. Long story short…she woke up early last night and found Noah watching TNA. John and I were Skyping again and I heard Noah and Julie yelling at each other. I had to cut our conversation short. I ran downstairs just in time to see Julie draw her hand back to smack Noah."

"No," Lana gasped. "What was she thinking?"

Sharlotte shook her head, "I don't know. I dove in front of Noah and grabbed her arm to stop her from striking him. I sent him upstairs so Julie and I could talk and after some…heated words, the next thing I knew my face burned like fire and there was blood on my mouth."

"So that's the bruising on your face," Lana asked in astonishment. "Julie hit you?"

Sharlotte nodded, swallowing past a fresh lump in her throat. "Yeah. And then she left."

"What? You mean to cool off or something?"

"No, I mean she _left_—as in, I'm Noah's sole guardian now."

"Oh, my goodness…I'm so sorry, Sharly."

"It's really scary to know I'm the only income and now I have a child to raise on my own," Sharlotte said softly. "The reality hasn't hit yet. I'm afraid of when it does."

"You should have called me," Lana said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. "I could have come over to be with you for support, and the boys could have had a sleep over or something."

Sharlotte hesitated. She didn't know how to tell her friend about having a male stay overnight in her home.

"Well," she started, "I kind of already had some unexpected company, so…"

"So….what?"

"John sort of came to my house late last night."

This time, Lana spewed a mouthful of water just barely missing Sharlotte's shoulder.

"What?!"

"I couldn't believe it myself," Sharlotte chuckled at Lana's reaction. "He was standing on my porch…" she trailed off remembering how handsome he'd looked waiting for her on the large porch. _He was a light in my darkness_, she thought her face taking on a dreamy expression.

"Hey!" Lana snapped her fingers in front of Sharlotte's face. "Come back! Tell me about seeing him!" She giggled when Sharlotte seemed to sail back to reality.

"He was so…sweet. And he held me so tightly," Sharlotte felt her face flame. She looked at Lana then. "He came that whole way because…" she paused remembering he had more than one reason. "Because he saw my fall in my long program, and he said it scared him so badly he needed to see me. And he told me as he was driving to Tallahassee, he felt me needing to see him as well."

"That _is_ sweet," Lana agreed. "So how long did he stay?"

"He stayed the night," Sharlotte answered honestly.

"Really," Lana gasped. "In a separate bedroom?"

"It started out that way. I didn't do anything," she said quickly, spotting the astonishment in Lana's brown eyes. "I had a nightmare, and I sleepwalked. He made me stay in the same room with him because I was so scared."

"I'm not judging you," Lana said gently. "I was just shocked is all."

Sharlotte nodded. She decided to leave out the comments John had made about what would happen if he kissed her.

_What will I do if he _does_ kiss me and then wants to… Will I be strong enough to refrain from temptation_?

Her phone dinged then, signifying a text message from John. She snatched up her phone in a hurry, worried about why he was texting her instead of calling her.

"_I'm fine, don't worry_," the message read. "_Just wanted you to know that I'm about halfway to Dallas_."

She smiled at his thoughtfulness as well as at his ability to read her mind, when another message dinged its arrival.

"What does it say," Lana asked, assuming from the smile on Sharlotte's face, that the message was from John.

"He let me know he's halfway to Dallas. I told him to let me know when he arrives because I'll worry if he doesn't."

"What about the second message," Lana asked, leaning forward. "Anything good?"

Sharlotte hurriedly opened the next text and then smiled again, a flush creeping up her pretty face. "It says, '_I miss you_'."

"He's such a doll," Lana cried. "He's just adorable! I wish he had a twin brother."

Sharlotte barely heard her as she quickly texted John back.

"_You'd better not be texting while driving, John Cena_!"

A few seconds later she received another text from him.

"_Nope. I'm filling up with gasoline at the moment. Now, stop that worrying_! _Will talk to you soon_. ;)"

Smiling dreamily, Sharlotte sent him a quick goodbye message and turned her attention back to Lana and finished eating her lunch.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry I took so long getting an update posted! I've been having a really hard time with my depression and anxiety, not to mention I've had several doctor appointments as of late as well. Thank you for being patient with me & I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Oh, and I sort of made a few changes to the plot summary in Chapter 1. So if you want to be more informed about the plot you may want to go back to the beginning of Chapter 1 and re-read the summary. That should be the only changes to the summary I have to make, but I felt it was necessary because the plot seemed to be a tad all over the place and not very organized, lol. Anyway, just a head's up. :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Rating: R **(Shouldn't reach "R" proportions [definitely not sexually], but am putting "R" just to be safe)  
**Story Contents/Warnings: **Violence and some adult-ish situations (heavy make-out sessions—no sex descriptions. There may be sex involved in the story, but it will not be descriptive)  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

Noah stepped down from the school bus and tried his best to ignore the heckling going on behind him. Thankfully, the school kids hadn't bothered him physically over the day's time, but they had made up for it in verbal abuse.

"You're aunt's a slut," shouted one boy.

"She's as big a baby as you are," another bully chimed in. "And she's going to get hurt if she doesn't shut her mouth," he added.

He'd glared at the boys, but he knew better than to say anything. His first instinct was to lunge and attack the foul-mouthed tormenters for disgracing his aunt, but they were growing even more vicious in their verbal attacks, so he figured if he _did_ say or do anything, the physical attacks would be escalated as well.

Frustrated beyond belief, Noah walked up the driveway and noticed Julie's car was not in the drive. _Weird_, he thought. _She's usually home sleeping at this time. Maybe she had to work a double shift. _It certainly wasn't unheard of.

In truth, the notion calmed him a little. The boy was not yet ready to face his mother after everything that transpired the night before. Stepping onto the porch, he grabbed his house key out of his backpack and unlocked the door, hurrying inside to the sanctity of his home. He quickly locked the door, seemingly fearful that one of his bullies could appear on his porch and barge their way inside at any moment.

Knowing Sharlotte would be home in a couple of hours, he took his backpack into the kitchen and pulled out his textbooks, setting them on the large kitchen table so he could begin working on his homework. Having been unable to eat at lunch, his stomach rumbled loudly so he grabbed a package of peanut butter crackers out of the pantry and then took a can of soda out of the refrigerator.

Noah sat back down at the table with his snack and pulled his math book toward him, prepared to finish the last few problems on his assignment. However, he found his mind quickly drifting back to his worries instead.

_Will this ever be over_, he wondered, taking a bite of one of his crackers. _What will make them leave me alone_? _What has to happen for the teachers and principle to help me_? He pushed his book aside for the moment and tried to clear his head. He debated on saving his homework for the weekend. He knew if he finished the assignments quickly, his mind would then be free to think and worry about the situation at hand. But if he saved the homework for Saturday or Sunday, he'd have something to occupy his mind so he wouldn't dwell on his bullying problem.

His decision being made, Noah packed up his books and decided to watch TV till Sharlotte returned home.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte walked into the house and hung her purse on one of the coat hooks in the hallway.

"Noah," she called out. She was eager to hear how his day went.

"Yeah, Aunt Sharlotte," her nephew called from the living room. He appeared a second later and attempted a smile for her.

"Hey, kiddo," she greeted him, ruffling his brown hair. "How did your day go?"

"It was…okay," he replied. "Nobody hit me or anything."

"Nobody hit you…" Sharlotte repeated, reading between the lines. "Did they say anything to you?"

Noah's shoulders slumped as he debated on his answer.

"Noah, tell me," she coaxed. "I need to know if anything happened—anything at all."

"They…they started calling you names…"

"Me," she clarified. "Well, what did they say about me?"

"They said you're as big a baby as me," Noah answered, avoiding her eyes. He hoped she wouldn't pry too much. He didn't want to tell her about the threat made against her. He was sure it was just an empty threat intended to bother him more than anything else and he hated to worry her with it.

"Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something," Sharlotte asked with a slight chuckle. "It's not going to hurt my feelings Noah. We both know they're just a bunch of mean kids."

He nodded, and hesitantly spoke, "They called you a slut."

Now, she completely busted out laughing, "Okay, they're a bunch of mean kids who have absolutely no clue as to what they're talking about, right?"

Noah seemed to relax then and smiled slightly, revealing a new tooth now growing from the gap he'd had. "Right."

"Okay," Sharlotte nodded. "So… I have a somewhat crazy idea."

The young boy looked highly curious and more than just a little anxious, "What kind of crazy idea?"

"Well," she hedged, and pulled the boy into a hug. "I'm thinking since school lets out for summer the first part of June, and we're already halfway through May… What if I take you out of school for the remainder of the year? I can mention in the interview Monday that you're still being verbally harassed and I refuse to make you go through the abuse. Maybe between such drastic action, and _Be a Star_, we can light a fire under the principal and the superintendent and actually get them to put an end to the bullying."

"Really," Noah cried. "I can just quit for the year? Will I have to re-do the fifth grade?"

"No, you can take an equivalency test for the sixth grade. Since you're only about two weeks from summer break anyway, I'm sure there wouldn't be too much more stuff for you to learn. I'm sure you'd do fine on the exam."

"What about my books I brought home for homework? And my locker still has some stuff in it."

"We can take care of all that Monday after the interviews. Any more questions," Sharlotte teased, ruffling his hair again.

"What about Mom? What will _she_ say?"

Sharlotte paled. She'd nearly let herself forget about telling him his mother had left them high and dry.

"Um…yeah, about your Mom… Noah, let's go into the kitchen and talk, okay?"

"Okay…" he said uncertainly, allowing his aunt to lead him into the kitchen.

"Are you hungry," she asked, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. "Do you want a little snack before supper or anything?"

Noah shook his head as Sharlotte sat down at the table across from him. "No, I had some peanut butter crackers earlier. I'm fine till supper." He watched as she took a long drink from her water. "Aunt Sharlotte…what's going on? Where's Mom?"

_Lord, help me_, Sharlotte prayed silently. _Help me to be enough for him_. "Noah, I'm sure you heard the argument between me and Julie last night—right?"

He nodded sadly at the memory, "She hit you."

"Yes," she agreed, "She did. And we said some very bad things to each other."

"_She_ was saying bad things," Noah retorted. "You were only being truthful. You _are_ the one who's taken care of me. She had no right to hit you just because she resents you for it. If she wanted the title of 'mother' she should have earned it!"

Sharlotte gasped at the boy's anger, "Noah, honey, I'm so sorry she's made you feel this way. But I did let anger get the best of me. No, she didn't have the right to hit me, but I _did_ say some mean things to her as well. And I hope you don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you."

"What is it," Noah asked worriedly.

"Your mother left me a note on her pillow last night, and informed me she was leaving us."

For a moment, the boy sat as still as a statue and Sharlotte wondered if he'd even heard her. "Noah? Did you hear-"

"She left us?"

"Yes, baby. She left us—permanently. But try not to be angry at her, Noah. She apologized for everything in the note. She knows I-"

"She _should've_ apologized!"

With that, he shot from the table and ran from the kitchen. Sharlotte heard his footsteps run up the stairs and a couple of seconds later, his bedroom door slammed shut.

Her eyes filled with tears as she bowed her head and prayed.

_Lord, please don't let him be scarred by this, _she prayed. _Please help me to raise him properly_. _Father, be with him and help him to not grow a bitter heart. Help him to forgive his mother, and help him to forgive me too._

Finishing her tearful prayer, she stood to her feet and began searching for something to cook for supper.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte laid her copy of _The Great Gatsby_ aside and got off her bed as she heard Skype ringing a call through on her laptop. She sat down at her desk and accepted the call. A second later, John's face appeared on her screen.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted. "I just wanted to check in with you and see how your day went."

Smiling forlornly, she rested her chin on her hand, "Not too good, I'm afraid. How about you?"

"No, no, no, I can wait," he said. "What happened with you?"

"Noah wasn't hit or anything today, but he's still being harassed," she answered, securing her hair up into a ponytail. "I decided to take him out of school for the remainder of the year. I'm hoping the principal will see how dead serious I am and that they'll make an effort to stop the bullying problem in the school," she explained, "Because I'm sure, Noah isn't the only child being tormented."

"Probably not," John agreed. "I'm sure the Be A Star interviews you have Monday will help too," he added. "It'll be fine, Sharlotte. Try not to worry, okay?"

She nodded wordlessly, and John saw her gaze sadden some more. "I get the feeling more happened. What are you not telling me?"

"I told Noah about his mother leaving us."

"Ah," he said, giving a knowing nod. "Well, I can imagine how he took the news, but the best thing you can do is to just be there for him, Sharlotte. He'll get through it, and so will you. And you know I'll always do whatever I can to help you guys too."

She smiled warmly at him, "I know, John. And I thank you. I don't know what I'd have done the past couple of days without you."

"Likewise, baby."

His term of endearment flooded her heart with warmth and helped her to feel like everything truly would be okay. _Lord, I'm in love with this man. What will I do_? _How can I handle this_?

"So, other than Noah's situation, how are you holding up?"

"Actually, since I made the decision to pull him out of school, I feel very relieved. He's mature enough to stay here at the house alone during the day. At least I know he'll be safe," Sharlotte answered, rolling her neck to release some tension in her muscles.

John nodded, "I'm relieved too. I'm sure this will all get worked out. It's just going to take a little time."

She nodded and smiled apologetically at him then, "And I'm sorry, I've taken so much time to talk about my problems…How was _your_ day? Have you had your match yet," she asked, glancing at her watch.

"No, not yet," he replied. "I actually need to go get warmed up, but I wanted to call and check up on you guys first."

"Well, thanks—that's very sweet of you. I appreciate it," Sharlotte smiled. "Do you have another minute," she asked him, her gaze shifting shyly downward.

"Of course," John answered, flashing his dimples at her. "What's on your mind?"

"I was wondering if you could… Well, I know you can't give away storylines and things like that… But would you be able to kind of let me know when you have an injury angle? I mean…I don't expect you to spoil a storyline or anything, but just…maybe you could give me a call ahead of time to say, 'Hey, I'm gonna get a little banged up tonight, don't freak out if I act like I'm really hurt,'—so I won't worry as much?"

John chuckled, "You got it, beautiful."

She smiled at him and let out a small sigh, "Thank you."

"So, it scares you when you think I'm hurt, huh," he teased.

"Yes, it does," Sharlotte admitted, a flush creeping up her neck to her face. "And it drives me crazy when I don't know if it's for real or not."

"I promise, I'll let you know ahead of time if I'm supposed to get 'injured'," he chuckled, holding up his fingers and forming quotations. "And if I ever get hurt for real, I'll call you as soon as I'm able, to let you know I'm okay."

"And you're a man of your word, so I'm holding you to that," she said, mischievously pointing her finger at him.

John smiled and started to speak when something got his attention off-screen.

Sharlotte realized someone was talking to him when he spoke up, "Yeah, I'm almost ready," he said. Then he glanced at her through the screen before looking away again and calling out, "Hey, Randy, come over here. I want you to meet a friend of mine."

She nearly swallowed her tongue. To be so nonchalantly introduced to another member of the WWE roster was quite a shock.

In the next instant Randy was standing over John's shoulder and gave a slight wave to her. "Hi there, Sharlotte. I've heard a lot about you."

Despite his somewhat friendly greeting, there was almost a challenge in Randy's demeanor. Sharlotte wasn't sure what she should say, so she just tried to keep it simple and polite. "Well, it was all good, I hope," she chuckled nervously, and casted a weary glance at John before settling her gaze back on Randy. "It's very nice to meet you Randy."

Randy's cool blue eyes seemed to study her intently for a moment before answering, "Yeah… It's nice to meet you too. Then he patted John on the shoulder, "We should get ready for our match, eh?"

He was clearly dismissing Sharlotte.

"Yeah," John reluctantly agreed. He shot an apologetic glance back at Sharlotte. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Though stung by Randy's scrutiny, she perked back up at John's warm farewell. She nodded, "I can't wait."

"Me either," John replied, giving her an adorable wink. "Later, beautiful."

"Be safe, John."

He nodded, "Don't worry about me," he smiled softly. "I'll be fine."

"Okay," Sharlotte said. "I'll talk to you later then."

He smiled at her again with a slight nod and she caught the glare he shot in Randy's direction as he closed out of Skype.

"Well, I guess it's plain to see Randy isn't happy with John associating with me," she said sadly. "What in the world did I do wrong," she asked herself, flopping across her bed. She curled up on her side, preparing to catch a nap before John called her again. "He's probably just trying to look out for John," she reasoned. "Ugh…I'm too tired to stress over yet another problem. It'll work out fine."

With that, she snuggled into her pillow and prepared to doze for a while.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Randy, what's your problem," John asked as they headed to the guerilla position. "You were rude to Sharlotte. Take it easy on her, man."

Randy turned and looked at John, "I didn't actually mean to be _rude_ to her. I'm just skeptical of her, is all." He stretched his arms one last time before his entrance theme played. "You have to admit, she's gotten a lot of your attention as of late—and right after you file for divorce no less. She just seems…"

"What," John asked, growing huffy. "She seems what?"

"I don't know, really," Randy shrugged. "Like…maybe an…opportunist."

John cracked his neck, "Randy…I have to ask you this. Are you _trying_ to turn our match into an actual fight?"

"Whoa, man," Randy held his hands up in an offer of truce. "I didn't mean any offense. I'm just telling you what I see, and how it looks to me. I'm just trying to look out for you. I don't usually say this to my friends…well, _ever…_but I care about ya. I don't want you to make another mistake like with Amy." He stared at John, "So…you don't have any bad feelings about this Sharlotte? You don't think she's just trying to…take advantage of you?"

John instantly shook his head, "No. Not at all. She's for real." He bent his leg up behind him to stretch his quads. "But thanks for looking out for me."

"Well…how can you be so sure she's for real," Randy asked. "I mean…are you just going by instinct?"

"Yeah," John nodded. "My instincts have always been pretty impeccable, Randy—except where Amy was concerned." He bent his other leg to stretch then. "And I also noticed some other things."

"Like?"

"Well, _I_ initiated the friendship. Sharlotte tweeted me first, but I took it from there. She had no way of knowing I'd be interested in being friends with her. And she's just too…innocent. Nobody can fake innocence like hers. She blushes, and gets flustered easily. It's real. I can't explain it in words, I just know."

"Okay, fair enough," Randy said with a shrug. "Tell her I'm sorry for being rude when you talk to her later, okay?"

John smiled, "Yeah. I'll tell her. Thanks, man."

Randy's theme, _Voices_, boomed through the sound system then.

"Well, see ya out there," Randy clapped John on the back and then headed out onto the ramp to work the crowd before stepping into the ring.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

_Monday Morning…  
Tampa, Florida_

John was packing up the last of the clothes and ring gear he would need for his trip to Oklahoma, when his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket quickly in the hopes of the caller being Sharlotte, he glanced at the Caller ID.

And then groaned.

_Amy_.

In a hurry to get the phone call over with, he tapped the screen and answered, "What is it, Amy? And make it fast. I'm about to leave for-"

"_How could you_," came Amy's shrieking voice.

"God, Amy—for once in your pathetic life, would you stop with the theatrics and get to the point," John finally lost his temper and shouted at her. "What'd I do now?"

"_There's a report on TMZ's website showing photos of you going into that home wrecker's house and staying the night on Thursday_!"

His head dropped in defeat.

_How in the world did they find out_?_ Who took the photos_, he wondered.

"Amy—not that it's any of your business now—but nothing happened. Sharlotte isn't like that-"

"_Don't hand me that_," Amy growled. "_You can't tell me she isn't playing you like a fiddle_! _And besides all that_—_you got it on with one sister years ago, and now you're trying to get the other one_!"

"Okay, first of all—you've lost me yet again. Secondly, let me clear this up for you, Amy. I care about Sharlotte—a lot. And she cares about me. She's not really the type to have sex with a man before marriage, okay? But if she were to change her mind on the subject, I _would_ gladly take her to bed. And you're going to have to get over that fact. It's over, Amy. It's over between us—forever."

"_She's her sister, you idiot_," Amy screamed in rage. "_She's her sister_!"

"Whose sister, Amy," John asked, sitting down on his bed and massaging his temples. The beginnings of a bad headache were starting behind his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"_Sharlotte Taylor's sister is_ Julie _Taylor_! You know…the woman you cheated on me with even before we were married!"

"So what, Amy," he spouted off. "_You_ cheated on _me_ countless times! Yes, cheating on you in revenge was wrong of me, but-"

All at once, the first part of Amy's statement got through to him.

_Julie_… _It can't be_, John thought, reeling from the information. _No way. _

But then he thought of each woman. They highly resembled, from what he could remember of Julie. There were only a couple differences—Julie was brunette and had brown eyes while Sharlotte was blond and had gray eyes.

Suddenly, his mind darted over to Noah.

"Oh, my God," he uttered.

"_Exactly_," screeched Amy over the phone, not realizing John's train of thought was elsewhere. "_Wait till Sharlotte finds out_," she taunted. "_I can't wait to hear her voice when I tell_-"

"You're not going to say a word to her or I will use your sex tape against you," John said calmly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"_You threaten me with that so much_," Amy growled. "_You're bark is worse than your bite. But one day, John Cena, you'll find out it won't be enough to keep me from paying you back_."

"Whatever," John said distractedly and then disconnected the call.

He lay back on his bed and thought hard. He pictured Noah's brown hair, his blue eyes, the dimples in his cheeks and the cleft of his chin. It was like looking at himself twenty-four years prior. He also thought of the timing. _Julie and I had our one-night-stand about twelve years ago._

Time enough for Julie to have gotten pregnant and given birth to a baby.

_And Julie had been shy like Sharlotte, _John thought_._ She too was a Christian—not the type to typically sleep with _one_ man, let alone _several_.

"My God," John whispered, as realization dawned. "Noah is my son."

* * *

**Author's Note: ** Sorry for the delay in writing. Had to map this one out for a few chapters ahead. Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it! :) Now I will work on an update for Second Chances!


	15. Chapter 15

**Rating: R **(Shouldn't reach "R" proportions [definitely not sexually], but am putting "R" just to be safe)  
**Story Contents/Warnings: **Violence and some adult-ish situations (heavy make-out sessions—no sex descriptions. There may be sex involved in the story, but it will not be descriptive)  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

Sharlotte awoke to the sound of her cell phone alerting her to a tweet being directed to her. Groaning sleepily, she grabbed the phone off her night table and checked the notification. Instantly she saw where she'd accumulated about twenty five tweets. She glanced at each one growing more confused by the second.

Each message accused her of being a "whore" or "slut" in so many words, and were laced with venomous attacks. She grew a little calmer after checking the Twitter accounts, however, because they all appeared to belong to female teenage wrestling fans.

Realization dawned then.

"Cena Fangirls," she chuckled, shaking her head. "They've just discovered John's tweets to me, I bet," she considered. Chuckling again, she silenced the text and Twitter notifications app, and placed the phone back on her night table.

_If I ignore them, they'll stop sooner or later_, she thought. _Though I'm sure there are a few unstables I'll need to block, I'm sure. _

She glanced at her bed-side clock then and noted that she had another half hour to rest before she had to get up and start her day.

_A_ big _day_, she elaborated to herself. _I'll need to finish cleaning the house, before everyone arrives for the interviews, but I'm sure Noah will help me finish up_.

She smiled at the memory of how her nephew had acted over the weekend. He'd laughed a lot and seemed lighthearted, more at ease. It was a relief to see him so upbeat and back to his old self.

The thought of cleaning the house and having to get dressed up to do the interviews entered her mind again and she decided to take advantage of the start of her day by getting the proper rest. _It's not every week I get a Monday off_, she thought snuggling back into her pillow. _I need to remember to thank Emilia for being so understanding about all of this_.

Closing her eyes, she dozed for the next few minutes and then came awake when her alarm finally went off. She stretched contentedly, then climbed out of her cozy bed and pulled her robe on over her nightgown. Grabbing a hairband off her dresser she secured her hair up into a messy bun and headed downstairs to fix some breakfast for Noah.

Upon going downstairs and entering the living room, she discovered Noah had apparently beaten her to not only getting out of bed, but also in finishing the chores. Touched, she called out his name and headed toward the kitchen to find him.

"Noah, where are you," she called, smiling.

"In here!"

His voice came from the direction of the kitchen, but when she entered the room, he was nowhere in sight. However, a second later, he walked through the laundry room door which was just off the kitchen. "What is it, Aunt Sharlotte?"

She smiled at seeing him carrying a laundry basket.

_He's still working, bless his heart_, she thought.

Walking up to him, she took the basket from him and set it on the kitchen table, then took him in her arms.

"I just wanted to thank you for the hard work you've done," she said, kissing the top of his head. "I fully intended to clean up around here and you beat me to it. Thank you."

Noah smiled in return, "I wanted to do something special for you. I know how hard you work between taking care of me and your job, so I wanted to make today be easier for you so you can get a little rest."

"You are an amazing kid, you know that," Sharlotte asked, hugging him close. "If I ever have a child of my own, I couldn't ask for anything more if they turn out like you."

Noah looked up at her hopefully, "Really?"

"Yes, 'really'," Sharlotte answered softly. "You are a blessing to me."

He grinned then, his twin dimples appearing, "If you ever _do_ have a baby, can I call them my brother or sister?"

She laughed, "Why not? I know you'd make a great brother. _And_ they'd be growing up with you, so I imagine they'd think of you as a brother anyway."

He looked down at his hands, "I have something to ask you, Aunt Sharlotte."

"Well, ask away," she prodded, sitting down at the kitchen table to sort through the clean laundry in the basket. He sat down at the table next to her, and looked hesitant. Sharlotte stopped what she was doing and glanced over at him, "What is it, Noah?"

"I'm afraid I'll sound like a bad person…" he said softly.

"Noah, you are NOT a bad person," she told him, reaching over and patting his hand. "And no matter what you're about to ask me, I will not think badly of you."

"Promise?"

"I promise," she smiled. "Now, what's bothering you?"

"I was sort of hoping…" he said slowly, "that since _she_ left me…" Sharlotte knew by 'she' he meant Julie. "And since you've always taken care of me…" he puffed out a sigh as he battled to get the words out, "...Would it be okay, if… if I called you 'Mom'?"

Sharlotte was flabbergasted. _Why didn't I see that one coming_, she wondered inwardly smacking herself.

"Well, Noah…" she started. She looked over and saw his hopeful face, and it was almost her downfall. "I'm not sure," she answered. "I mean, you aren't doing a bad thing by asking that of me, it's just…"

"What," Noah asked. "What's wrong with me calling you 'Mom'?"

"Nothing, really," Sharlotte said. "It's just…I think I'd feel a little selfish if you did."

"But you shouldn't," he answered. "It'd be my choice. It's not like you're making me do it. And besides…adopted kids call their adoptive parents 'Mom and Dad', don't they?"

Sharlotte nodded, "Of course."

"Well, you raised me. And now Mom's left me in your care…so you've kind of adopted me."

Sharlotte smiled. He had her there.

"Yes, I suppose you're right, although I've not _officially_ adopted you. However, if your mom does get in contact with me at all, I'm going to see about her letting me have custody of you so I can legally adopt you."

"So I can call you 'Mom'?"

Sharlotte grinned, a twinkle in her gray eyes, "If I can call you my son."

"You'd do that," Noah asked happily.

"You better believe it," Sharlotte chuckled. "You are the best little boy a mother could dream of having—so of course I want to call you my son."

Noah jumped up out of his chair and launched himself at her, hugging her close. Sharlotte giggled as she nearly fell out of her chair. "Easy now," she squealed.

"Sorry…Mom," Noah said smiling.

"No problem…son," Sharlotte returned. She ruffled his hair then, "Why don't you go play some video games or whatever you feel up to doing and get a start on your premature summer vacay?"

"You don't want help with the laundry?"

Sharlotte shook her head smiling warmly, "You've done enough for me today. Have you had breakfast?"

Noah nodded, "Yep. I fixed a bowl of Fruity Pebbles."

"You know," she replied, "I think that sounds pretty good too."

"Want me to fix it for you," Noah asked.

She stood to her feet then and grabbed a cereal bowl out of the cabinet, "No, I can handle it fine. Go play and have some fun!"

Grinning happily, Noah ran off to his room to enjoy the rest of his day.

Sharlotte fixed her breakfast and thought about what Noah had asked of her. It shocked her at first, but then she thought, _Why shouldn't I treat him as my son_?_ Julie never did and he does _need_ a mother figure._ She sat down at the table and ate her cereal, deep in thought.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

John slowly came out of his shocked stupor and sat up on his bed.

"I need the night off," he thought out loud, beginning to strategize. "I need to tell Sharlotte about all this—God, how will I do it? How can I tell her I slept with her sister? She really _will_ think I'm just a womanizer—even though it was years ago." His thoughts wandered back to Noah then. "And how will _he_ take it? What if he thinks I didn't want him? There's no telling what Julie told him if she was bitter toward me."

Shaking his head to clear it, he grabbed his cell phone. _I'll make the necessary calls to the staff and then head for Tallahassee_, he thought. _I'll tell Sharlotte about the news report and feel her out_—_then_ _try to find a gentle way to break the news about Noah to her. _

His plan firm in his mind, he quickly tried to call Vince. However, his boss' phone went straight to voicemail. John groaned, realizing the only time's Vince's cell phone was off was during flights. He tried Stephanie next, whom was next in command. Luckily she picked up on the second ring.

"_Stephanie McMahon_," she greeted.

"Hi, Steph," John returned. "It's Cena. Do you have a minute?"

"_Sure_," she replied. "_It's still a few minutes till I board my flight_."

"Flight," John repeated. "Oh, that's right…you're going to Sharlotte's for the interviews, aren't you?"

"_Yes_," Stephanie replied. "_Was there something you needed me to tell her_?"

"Actually, there's something _I_ need to tell her myself. I really need the night off."

"_Did you call Daddy_?"

"I tried," John answered. "But I think he's on his flight because it went straight to voice mail."

"_Okay_," Stephanie said. "_I can let him know when he reaches Tulsa. Does this have anything to do with the news report and photos posted up on TMZ about you and Sharlotte Taylor_?"

"Yeah, just a little bit," he answered, telling a half-truth. "I need to alert her about it—and it's not something I want to tell her about over the phone. Having photos of her and her home online isn't something a young, single woman wants to discover on her own and without any warning."

"_Yes, you're right_," Stephanie said. "_I understand completely. I'll let Daddy know asap_. _Oh, and be sure you call Phil. He'll need to know about the change of plan for tonight since you two had a match. Tell him to get in touch with me. I'll be working on rearranging the lineup on my flight to Florida_."

"Thanks, Steph," John said, thankful he didn't have to go into deep detail. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," she answered. "You don't typically take a day off for anything. Anyway, I hope she takes the news well."

"Me too," he responded. "Please don't mention any of this to Sharlotte. I need to be the one to tell her."

"Don't worry," Stephane replied. "I won't. It's not my place or my business."

"Thanks again," John said appreciatively. "I'll see ya later." As soon as he ended the call, he was then dialing Phil and informing him of the lineup changes. He apologized to him for the inconvenience, and ended that call as well. Then, minutes later he had his suitcase in hand and headed out to his car with his plans to see Sharlotte foremost in his mind.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"My goodness," Sharlotte exclaimed, glancing at yet another alert on her cell phone. "I'm so sorry," she apologized to Stephanie and the WWE reporters as well as the representatives from _Be A Star_. "I've been getting all sorts of negative tweets fired off at me since this morning," she informed them, shaking her head. "I'll turn my phone of for now, and we won't be disturbed anymore."

"Not a problem," Stephanie informed her kindly. She felt badly that the younger woman didn't realize what was most likely the cause of the tweets. But she'd promised John she wouldn't say a word, so she kept her lips sealed on the subject.

Sharlotte put her phone back in her pocket and the cameramen resumed recording the interview.

"How have you been coping with this bullying situation and the strain it's causing ," asked the reporter.

"Not very well, I'm afraid," Sharlotte answered honestly. "Noah and I have had a few things happen in addition to the bullying and…well, my worrying about him as well as these other issues, have really impacted my daily life. It's hard to concentrate at work and focus on the everyday things I have to do." She paused then and added, "But then I think of what Noah's going through and…and I know I have to be strong—for him. His well-being means the world to me and it's what keeps me going."

"You say you've had a few other things happen in addition to all this… Can you tell us about them? Do they pertain to the bullying?"

"One situation does, but the others—not so much. One thing that's happened, I don't really wish to talk about—it's too personal. Another thing has actually been a true blessing, but I wish to keep it private," she said, a flush creeping up her face. "And the remaining situation…" She took a deep breath to calm herself. She noticed Stephanie giving her a warm smile and a nod of encouragement. "I was threatened over the phone."

"Regarding Noah?"

"Yes. Thursday morning, I'd talked to Noah's principle about a lawsuit if he didn't get a handle on the bullying situation. And then hours later, a man called my house and told me if I filed a lawsuit, I'd pay the consequences."

Though she kept a strong appearance while she answered the question, inside she was trembling.

"Did you notify the police?"

"No I did not," Sharlotte answered. "I was advised to keep quiet about a lawsuit and the threat till this interview could be conducted, and the information made public. However," she looked directly into the camera then, "if I receive any more threats, I _will_ notify the police."

"Until this ordeal is taken care of, what kinds of precautions are you taking to protect your nephew?"

"Well, Thursday, I kept him out of school. I felt he needed to have a day to just be a kid—to have a little fun. We spent the day together, and while we were out I took him to his doctor to have him checked out. And, thank God, everything was fine other than some bruises and scratches. I also got him a cell phone for emergencies. But now…The bullying has started bothering him for another reason. The kids began calling _me_ names—which is fine by me. It doesn't bother me in the least. But it hurts Noah. I can't make him go through any more of this." She took another deep breath and bravely stated, "I've taken him out of school for the remainder of the year. And he _will not_ be returning to S. McDaniel Elementary. I plan for him to take an equivalency exam so his education doesn't get behind. I'm going to figure out how to send him to a Christian private school I've had my eye on."

"Private school…those can be awfully costly. Will that be difficult for you?"

"Of course," Sharlotte said. "But I'm determined. If I have to work three jobs to accomplish it, I will."

"Do you think bullying will ever stop completely?"

Sharlotte sadly shook her head, "No. I don't. Bullying is nothing new. It's simply getting more publicity in recent years. But bullying will continue for many reasons. One is—simply put, there's just mean people in the world, and unfortunately sometimes their meanness comes out at an early age. Another reason is, there's too many parents and guardians not teaching their children right from wrong. That's not to say all parents are like that," Sharlotte clarified, "I'm not trying to stereotype here, but the fact remains, in _some_ households discipline _is_ a problem. Another reason is when school faculties ignore the issues, and refuse to do anything to stop them—even when they are contacted numerous times about a situation. And sadly, all of this…Only in a perfect world will it all be rectified," she said softly. "But I believe it _can_ be cut down on. And I'm so thrilled to see organizations like _Be A Star_ go to the frontlines in the battle to stop bullying."

"Okay, I think we have enough material from Sharlotte's interview to work with," the reporter stated. "Great stuff," he added smiling at Sharlotte.

"Thank you," Sharlotte returned the smile, as a WWE crew member unhooked her lapel microphone, "I can't thank you all enough for doing this."

"We're happy to," Stephanie interjected. "I just hope it will help the principal to see-"

"Ms. McMahon, do you want any more footage of you addressing this issue," a crew member asked.

"No, I don't think so," she answered. "We already got enough footage of that before we started Sharlotte's interview.

"Alright, then let's get Noah hooked up and get his interview done," the cameraman said, checking his camera to make sure he had enough tape left. Noah rose from the sofa and sat on the chair Sharlotte had sat in moments before, and watched as the reporter and crew prepared him for his interview.

"Well, I should be going now," Stephanie said, also rising to her feet. "It's a little after noon and I still have to do some rescheduling for tonight, and I need to be in Tulsa to make sure things go smoothly."

"Thank you again so much," Sharlotte said, walking with her to the door. They stepped out onto the porch together. "This means so much. It's really put my mind at ease."

"I'm glad. And I hope it helps," Stephanie replied. "When they get through they'll begin working on editing immediately, and should be able to air it tonight during RAW, so don't miss it," she smiled.

Sharlotte smiled in return, "Okay, we won't. Noah wouldn't dare miss a chance to see himself on TV—especially on his favorite TV show."

A car came down the narrow country-like road then, and Stephanie glanced up to make sure her rental wasn't about to be demolished.

"Looks like you've got company," Stephanie smiled with a twinkle in her eye, and motioned toward the road with a nod.

Sharlotte glanced up at the road and despite the bright sun, spotted a red mustang convertible pulling in front of her house. Not recognizing the vehicle, she shielded her eyes from the sunlight and tried to catch a glimpse of the driver as they climbed out of the car. They walked a ways forward and reached some shade, becoming easier to see. Her breath caught in her throat.

_John_.

"Oh, my God," Sharlotte whispered. "What's he doing here?"

"You should go ask him," Stephanie said teasingly, stepping off the porch. "I'll be going so you two can talk."

Having the distinct feeling that Stephanie knew exactly what was going on, Sharlotte brushed all thoughts aside and ran to John.

"John!" She leapt at him and he laughed, catching her up and swinging her around in his arms. "What are you doing here?"

"What, aren't you happy to see me," he teased, hugging her closer. They both were oblivious to Stephanie smiling in their direction as she pulled out of the driveway and drove away.

She giggled happily, "You know I am! I just wasn't expecting you."

John finally set her back on her feet and took a look at her. Her hair was down in loose golden waves, and she had makeup on. She didn't need the artificial improvement, but he couldn't deny that with it, she was even more breathtaking than usual.

"You look beautiful," he said, reaching up and brushing the back of his hand over her cheek. He saw her face flush and she glanced downward.

"It's the makeup. I don't think you've really gotten to see me with it on. I must look like a totally different person-"

"No," John replied, tapping her chin with his knuckle to silence her. "I didn't mean that. You're still you. It's just an enhancement to me," he explained. "You don't need it to be beautiful."

"Thank you," she said sincerely. She smiled again, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," John replied. "A lot."

"How are you here," Sharlotte asked him, "Tonight's RAW."

"Well," John started, rubbing his hand over his neck. "There's something I need to talk to you about. Can we go inside?"

"Sure. We'll have to go upstairs though. If Noah gets a glimpse of you he'll never get his interview finished," she chuckled. When John didn't laugh in return, she grew nervous. "John…what is it?" She realized then that John would not miss work for just anything. "What's happened? You never miss work."

"Come on," he said taking her hand. He quietly led her into the house and was careful to reach the staircase without Noah seeing him. Once they were in the second floor hallway, he led her into her bedroom and closed the door.

"John, please, what's wrong? You're scaring me."

"Have you been online," he finally asked her. "Have you seen any dirt sheets this morning?"

She shook her head, "No. Why?"

He sighed and sat down on her bed, "Somebody took pictures of us the night I stayed over."

She gasped, "What? How?"

"I don't know. From the shots I saw, they used night-vision and it looked like they were possibly across the road hiding in some of the shrubbery or something. They took shots of us hugging, and they were careful to get shots of me taking my suitcase into the house."

"Show me," Sharlotte said, motioning to her laptop. "It's already booted up."

John got up and then sat down at her desk and pulled up TMZ's website and quickly found the report.

"Here," he said, getting up so she could sit and read it. "It's not very long, but with those photos, it doesn't need to be. As they say, 'a picture's worth a thousand words'."

"But we didn't do anything," Sharlotte exclaimed, now looking at the photographs.

"People will draw their conclusions from these photos."

"Oh, my God," she said, reading the short article. "They've identified me." She gaped as she read aloud, "_The woman in the photos has been identified as former Olympic figure skater, Sharlotte Taylor_—_who is now a local librarian in Tallahassee, Florida. John Cena's taste in women has taken a pretty drastic change, folks. Cue the fangirls' wrath_." She scowled angrily, "So that's why I've gotten so many nasty tweets! She looked at John then. "Why would someone do this?"

"They were bound to be following me," he answered. "Someone's trying to screw me over in my divorce. They want it to look like I'm cheating so I'll get taken to the cleaners."

"Well, sure, some photos could make it _appear_ you're cheating and therefore make things difficult for you but all we actually did was hug, for crying out loud!"

John actually smiled, "Yes, but I distinctly remember telling you I wanted to do more than that." He saw her flush and continued, "Even if I had kissed you—and when I _do_ kiss you Sharlotte, I won't be cheating on Amy. I've made it clear to her and to the world—my marriage is over. It's over _in my heart_. I don't need a piece of paper to tell me that."

"But-"

"So, the question is…" he said softly, walking up to her, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

She took a cautious step back and he chuckled, taking an even bigger step toward her. Her back hit the wall and she knew she was in trouble.

_Of course 'trouble' is all in how you look at it_, she thought wryly as she watched the large, gorgeous man continue making his way over to her.

"The question is, when the time comes for me to kiss you…will you _let_ me?"

John was right in front of her then. He reached out and pulled her close against him, enclosing her in his arms.

Of their own accord, her arms wrapped around his waist and held on for dear life.

"J-John…" she spoke quietly, unsure of what she was actually planning to say.

"Will you let me," he repeated, whispering softly. He leaned downward, testing the waters with her.

She couldn't fight the enchanting anticipation of his kiss even if her life depended on it, "Y-yes…" she whispered in return.

His face neared hers then and she closed her eyes, her breath trembling past her lips.

John smiled in his own anticipation, and touched his mouth to her forehead.

Sharlotte felt his lips travel downward and brush lightly over her closed eyelids and then down further, dusting her cheeks with a couple of soft pecks. His breath brushed over her lips and she knew his mouth was mere seconds away from touching hers.

"If I do this, Sharlotte…you know as well as I do…"friendship" will fly out the window. There'll be no turning back," he whispered, his voice full of intensity.

"I-I know…" she said softly, her voice trembling.

"You don't sound sure."

Her eyes opened, and found his face only centimeters from hers.

"I…I'm not sure what you expect of me," she whispered. "I…there's certain things I can't…"

"I know," he said, not moving his face away from hers. "And I wouldn't try to force you, if that's what you're worried about."

She shook her head, "I know you wouldn't. I just don't… I'm afraid."

"Of?"

"You growing angry at me."

"Why would I get angry at you?"

"Because you're…experienced," she said delicately. "_I'm_ not. At all, John."

"I get it…you're a virgin. That doesn't bother me in the least, and I'm not going to try to make you change the fact."

She sighed, "You'll get tired of me after so much time with no…no…" She stammered over her word choice and felt her face flaming.

"Sex?"

"See, I can't even just say the word," she said exasperatedly. "I'm too frigid. You'll get tired of that."

"First of all, I don't find you 'frigid' in the least. And secondly, did it ever occur to you that I find you refreshing," John asked, flashing his dimples at her. "I work in one of the worldliest industries there is. Before the 'PG' rating in WWE, as you know, it was super graphic. There was nothing the divas wouldn't do. I work around that because I love to wrestle, but promiscuity is _not_ what I look for in a woman."

"I understand," Sharlotte said. "But what are you going to do if we start dating? I mean…I figure you won't be ready for marriage anytime soon, thanks to your ex-wife. Are you really willing to stick by a woman who is abstaining till marriage?"

"Baby, I don't have all the answers," John said, reaching up and brushing his thumb across her lips, "All I _do_ know is that I care about you, and I'm very attracted to you. And I'll do whatever I can to keep from hurting you."

"That's not a guarantee though." She looked down and avoided his gaze as she pulled out of his embrace. "John…" she sighed, "You're a wonderful man. And I could get very attached to you." She fought tears as she said the hardest words she'd ever speak, "Let's just leave things as they are—be friends. I'd rather have you as a friend than have my heart broken by you and lose you altogether."

With that, she hurried away from him and left her room.


	16. Chapter 16

**Rating: R **(Shouldn't reach "R" proportions [definitely not sexually], but am putting "R" just to be safe)  
**Story Contents/Warnings: **Violence and some adult-ish situations (heavy make-out sessions—no sex descriptions. There may be sex involved in the story, but it will not be descriptive)  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

While the WWE and _Be A Star_ staff gathered their equipment and prepared to leave, Sharotte took advantage of the fact that Noah had all of John's attention. While the two laughed and talked with each other in the living room, she hurried to the kitchen and quickly called Lana.

Thankfully, her friend answered on the first ring.

"_Hello_? _Sharlotte_?"

"Yeah, it's me," Sharlotte replied softly, trying not to be overheard by John. "Listen, I kind of have an emergency…Do you think you and Tyler could come stay over tonight?"

"_Well, I can't_," Lana replied, "_I promised Emilia I'd be at work early tomorrow. But we _could_ come hang out and watch RAW tonight. And then Tyler could stay over as long as you can take him to school for me_."

"Deal," Sharlotte sighed with relief.

"_Why do you need us over there_? _What's the emergency_? _You haven't received more threats have you_?"

"No, no more threats," she answered, hedging around the real answer.

"_Well, then what's the emergency_?"

"John's here and I'm afraid to be alone with him," Sharlotte blurted out, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"_Huh_?"

Sharlotte sighed, "It's a complicated mess. Could I tell you when you get over here?"

"Sure, okay. I'll be over soon. I'll have to leave there at three so I can go pick Tyler up from school though, but I shouldn't take very long."

"That's fine," Sharlotte said. "I'll think of something while you're gone."

"_Sharlotte, what's going on_?!"

"Just get over here," Sharlotte hissed. "Please!"

With that, she ended the call and sat the cell phone on the counter, hoping Lana would hurry and get to her house.

"I was wondering where you got off to."

Caught by surprise, Sharlotte squealed and spun around to find John watching her with a look of amusement on his face.

"Oh, you," she huffed. "You scared me!"

John chuckled, "I guess that's easy to do when you're trying to avoid me altogether."

"I-I'm not. I'm not trying to hide from you." She smacked her forehead, "I'm not trying to _avoid_ you."

He stepped a little closer to her and smiled softly, "Then why do you keep disappearing?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sharlotte said, moving away from him again. She took some of the lunch dishes out of the sink and began rinsing them so she could place them in the dishwasher.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she heard John say a second before he took her arm and gently turned her around to face him. "Ever since our talk up in your room, you've avoided me like a plague."

Sharlotte shook her head, "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm afraid to be alone with you."

"Excuse me," John said incredulously. "Why are you afraid of me? You can't think I'd hurt you."

Sharlotte shook her head in frustration, "I'm not afraid of _you_. I'm afraid of being alone with you. Be-because…"

"Spit it out," John said, smirking slightly.

"Because I _want_ to be alone with you," she said, exasperation in her voice. "And it scares me."

"Tell me why it scares you," John prodded, inching closer to her.

"I can't."

"Well, then tell me how I can fix this, Sharlotte," he said softly. "If you don't tell me why you're scared, how can I fix it?"

"You can't," she replied. "Nobody can fix this."

John was beginning to get scared himself. There was resignation in her voice and he grew worried he might lose her.

"What can I do," he whispered, turning her face up to his.

"Where's Noah," she asked suddenly. She didn't want him to hear their conversation.

"He's in the living room, watching TV," he answered. He had a look in his eyes that told Sharlotte he wasn't going to give up on their conversation. "I told him I needed to talk to you privately. He won't interrupt us."

"There's company on the way," Sharlotte continued to try and evade the topic of discussion. "My friend, Lana and her son Tyler. He's a big fan of yours too. Will you mind the company?"

"Not at all," John replied with a slight smile. "And you're not getting off the hook, Sharlotte Taylor. What can I do? I feel like I'm losing you."

"I don't know," Sharlotte answered, her voice shaking. "I feel like I've already lost you."

"You haven't," John assured her. "And you won't. But I need you to tell me why you're scared. I know I can fix this if you will just let me try."

Sharlotte groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"I'm afraid because I want to be alone with you."

Her words came out muffled and John reached over, pulling her hands from her face.

"Okay, you want to be alone with me," he reiterated. "I've got that. So what's the problem?"

She groaned again, "You don't understand. I want to be alone with you, but I know what that would—could—_might_ lead to. I mean…I'm only human, John. But I know I can't let that-"

Her words cut off as John's finger came up and pressed firmly over her mouth.

He chuckled then spoke softly, "I think I get it now. You think you want to have sex with me, but you also feel conflicted about it because of your beliefs."

"Not sex—not for me," Sharlotte muttered. "That word just sounds too…_meaningless_ to me."

"Okay," John smiled slightly and amended his previous statement, "Make love."

She nodded, avoiding his eyes, "Yeah."

John's dimples appeared in his cheeks, "Well, to make love, that means the couple should be in love with each other, right," he asked.

_Oh, boy,_ she thought, seeing where he was headed. _I've gone and done it now._

"_Are_ you in love with me, Sharlotte?"

Her breathing came faster as she rifled through her mind for an answer.

"You're missing the point," Sharlotte finally managed, trying to get his mind off the intimate question. Tears of defeat welled up in her eyes. "I can't be alone with you because I'm afraid of what I might let myself do!"

John pulled her into his arms and held her close, whispering soft words of comfort in her ear as he stroked her hair. "I'm sorry, Sharlotte," he said, rocking her slowly. He could see in her actions and hear in her words—along with the added fact that she was over thirty and still a virgin—she was experiencing a heavy case of sexual frustration. But he couldn't tell her that. He would frighten her even more. "It'll be okay. I won't do anything to hurt you. You can trust me."

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Sharlotte cried softly, hugging him closely. "I feel so high-strung lately."

"It's everything going on," John reasoned with her, though her statement only confirmed his suspicions. "Noah's bullying situation, your sister…"

She nodded, "You're right. Maybe it'll get easier now that I took Noah out of school and everything."

"It will," John smiled and gave the back of her neck an affectionate squeeze.

As tense as her muscles were, the soft caress had Sharlotte fighting the urge to let out a soft moan from the sensation.

John could feel the tightness in her neck and caught the look of relief on her face. "Come here," he said softly, leading her to a kitchen chair. "I think I could crush a pecan against those neck muscles of yours."

Sharlotte laughed and sat down at the table. She felt John's hands brush her hair aside and then his fingers gently kneaded into the tense muscles of her shoulders while this thumbs pressed into her neck, relieving the tightness.

This time, she couldn't stop the soft moan from escaping her lips. "That feels amazing," she sighed, dropping her head forward. His thumbs began working downward and pressing into her spine between her shoulder blades. "Oh, my word…" she gasped.

John chuckled, "So you don't get massages very often, huh?"

"Never," she said. "But I'm now considering hiring you on for my own personal benefit. Let me know if you ever consider leaving the wrestling industry. You have a bright new career ahead of you." John kneaded a particularly tight area of her neck then and she groaned in ecstasy, "Oh, sweet mother."

John laughed and continued to massage out the knots in her back and shoulders. The sheer pleasure of relief flooded through her and she felt giddy as a result.

The doorbell rang then and she heard Noah yell from the living room, "I'll get it!"

"Look through the peephole first," Sharlotte called back.

John smiled, happy that his son was being raised by a woman with a good head on her shoulders. At the thought of his son however, his mindset became a slightly anxious. _How in the world do I tell her_, he thought. _Especially now, when she's so stressed out. She has so much to deal with right now. And I'm the cause of some of it_, he realized. _I shouldn't have told her I have feelings for her so soon. _He felt horrible that he'd added to her worries. He knew then, he needed to wait a while before he told her about Noah. _But I can't wait very long_, John thought. _I want to be in his life, but I also want to help with his needs_—_child support. That would take a big strain off Sharlotte's mind as well. I could send him to the Christian private school she was talking about_! He smiled at the thought of easing her mind that much.

"Mom, Lana's here!"

Sharlotte heard Noah's shout and realized she'd almost forgotten about Lana's visit. She felt John's hands freeze on her neck.

"'Mom'," he repeated. "Why's he calling you 'Mom'?"

She flushed slightly, "He wanted to. I tried to get him to think it over, but he was very sure about it. I didn't want to hurt him, and besides…If my sister doesn't want to be in his life and be a mother to him, then he should have a mother-figure."

John bent down and kissed the top of her head, "I wasn't being critical. I was just surprised is all."

"I bet not as surprised as I was when he first asked about it," she chuckled.

"Hi," Lana called as she walked through the kitchen door. She froze for an instant seeing John Cena in Sharlotte's kitchen. Though she'd known about their growing friendship, seeing it in front of her was very surreal. Add in the fact that Cena seemed quite intimate with Sharlotte at the moment in massaging her neck, Lana was rendered momentarily speechless.

"Hi, Lana," Sharlotte greeted and stood to her feet. She turned to John and smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, I feel much better now." When he smiled in return, she turned back to Lana and formally introduced her to John. "As you know this is John Cena—John, this is my best friend Lana Stevens."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," John smiled politely at Lana and extended his hand to shake hers.

Lana flushed, and let out a small giggle, "Wow, this is amazing. It's wonderful to meet you. I'm a huge fan. So is my son, Tyler. He'll be here after a while—I know he'll be so thrilled to meet you."

"It'll be great to meet _him_," John responded, "I love to meet as many of my fans as is possible."

"Would anyone like some iced-tea," Sharlotte asked, heading for the refrigerator.

"Actually, Sharlotte," John said, catching her hand in his. He had a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. "I was hoping you'd like to go ice-skating for a little while. I'd love to see you skate," he said. His gaze shifted over to Lana, "If Lana wouldn't mind, that is," he added. "I wouldn't want to offend you. I've just seen a few clips of Sharlotte's skating, and I have to say I was captivated."

"I think that's a great idea," Lana piped up at the same moment Sharlotte said, "I've not skated in forever, John."

"You don't have to do any jumps, Sharly," Lana encouraged. "Although I _still_ say you should have gotten a second opinion about all that. Anyway, I could stay here with Noah till time to get Tyler. Then I could take them for ice-cream or something."

Sharlotte started to protest when John spoke again.

"You don't have to do any jumps," he reiterated, in agreement with Lana. "I wouldn't want you to risk your well-being. But grace like yours doesn't leave. I'd love to see it in person." He saw her resolve weaken and added, "Please?"

She smiled softly and knew she would cave, "I have a really hard time saying 'no' to you," she replied, shaking her head.

"Good to know," he teased, flashing his dimples and wriggling his eyebrows at her.

"Stop that," she laughed, smacking his arm.

Lana smiled at their interactions. She had a good feeling about the two. Inwardly, she dusted off her match-making skills and vowed to do everything she could to help Sharlotte snag the man of her dreams—permanently.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"You have a key to this place," John asked in surprise as Sharlotte slipped a key into the lock of the currently closed ice rink.

"Yeah. This was nearly my second home at one time, and I became close friends with the owner. She finally handed me a key one day and told me to come as often as I wanted." She pulled the door open then and they stepped inside. She waited till John moved ahead of her and then she re-locked the doors and flipped on some lights. Glancing at the skates John had slung over his broad shoulder, she smiled slightly. "I still can't believe you actually bought new ice-skates just on the chance I'd agree to come up here."

"I knew I'd get you here at one time or the other," John shrugged.

She detected a flash of self-assurance cross his face.

"Awfully cocky, aren't ya," she teased, playfully giving him a gentle elbow to the ribs as she led him toward the rink.

"Not cocky—just confident," he smiled back at her. "I don't quit till I get what I'm after."

She glanced up at him, and knew there was a hidden meaning in his words as he gazed intently at her. Flushing, she hurried ahead of him and headed for the room where the rink's sound system was. She glanced through the CDs and was astounded to find several discs with many of her performance pieces on them.

"Oh, my goodness," she whispered. "I can't believe these are still here." Then she smiled at seeing some of the old titles. Finding a CD with several songs she'd love to hear and skate to again, she popped it into the stereo system and programmed the CD to play. Within seconds, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata filled the arena. Goosebumps covered her skin and she smiled dreamily, closing her eyes and inhaling the old, passionate feelings of her past.

Finally remembering she'd left John alone at the rink, she hurried down from the sound room and joined him at a bench. She saw he already had his skates on so she quickly pulled off her sneakers and began lacing up her skates while John watched her. He admired her toned, slender legs as she prepped her skates for the ice.

_I definitely love yoga pants_, he thought, smiling in appreciation at what the article of clothing did with Sharlotte's figure. Because of said pants, he could see she was a woman who took the utmost care of her body. And the work had certainly paid off. He shook his head in amazement. He was yet to find something about her he didn't like or respect. She had morals, she was beautiful on the inside and out, she believed in exercise and taking care of her body, and she was a complete sweetheart. Not to mention, she was being a wonderful parent—_mother_—to his son. _Why couldn't I have met her before I met Amy_, he wondered. But then he realized for that to have happened, he would've had to meet her before Julie as well, and if they'd fallen in love at that point, then Noah would've never been born. Plus, Sharlotte would've been too young for him at that time anyway. _Everything happens for a reason, and with the right timing_, he thought.

Sharlotte finished with her skates then just as Moonlight Sonata ended and suddenly "My Kryptonite" was blasting through the speakers.

"Did you perform to this," John asked, nodding toward the sound system.

She shook her head, "No. My coach had a guy she was coaching the same time as me. I guess some of our music got lumped together." She looked at him and chuckled, "It's kind of fitting to skate with you to this song though."

At first John looked confused, but then realization dawned and he laughed, "Oh, right. Superman."

"I think you'd make a greater Batman, however. There's just something about a big, unidentifiable man in black latex that steals my heart," she joked.

A very noticeable blush crept up his face as he took her hand and brushed his lips over the back of it, "I'll have to remember that. But I'd rather _win_ your heart. There's a little more honor in that." He smiled when her mouth dropped open and her breathing quickened. Not giving her a chance to reply, he pulled her toward the ice. "Ready?"

"Y-yeah, I think so," she whispered, still reeling from his words.

"I'm right here with you," he said softly as they approached the rink's entry, stroking his thumb over her hand.

"And I'm glad," she returned, gazing up at him with a shy smile. "I can't think of another person I'd rather share this with."

Before he thought his actions through, John bent downward prepared to try and kiss her. Sharlotte, however, pretended to not see his intentions and abruptly stepped out onto the ice.

"Can we start with a lap or two first? I can try to skate to something after that. I just want to make sure my balance is okay. It's been so long."

Brushing his frustration to the side, he nodded and smiled before joining her on the ice. "Of course. You need to do what you're comfortable with."

He caught up with her and took her hand again, "Ya okay?"

Sharlotte nodded and looked up at him, "Yes, I really am. I feel…great." She glided over the ice with ease and then did a slight turn, skating backward so she could see how John was doing. "You _are_ a pretty good skater," she said, appreciation on her face.

"I'm decent," John admitted with a bashful smile. "Hopefully I don't trip over my feet watching you though."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about me," she reassured him. "I'm fine. I feel pretty comfortable, so I don't think I'll fall."

"I didn't mean I was worried about you," John replied, tugging on her hand and forcing her to skate over to him. "I meant I can't take my eyes off you."

"You're making this very difficult, John," she said softly.

"What's difficult about it," he asked, tracing his thumb over her cheek. "I _do_ care about you."

"And I care about _you_," Sharlotte returned. But _I love you _is what she really wanted to say.

At that moment, "My Kryptonite" ended and another song began playing—Jessica Simpson's "I Wanna Love You Forever".

_Oh, _no, Sharlotte thought. She could only imagine how much more difficult fighting off John's romantic side would be during a love song.

"Did you perform to this one," John asked her, inching his face a little closer to hers.

She fought to keep her breathing even. "Yes," she smiled slightly. "Want me to try it now?" It would be a great excuse to put some much needed distance between them.

"Yes," John answered instantly. Imagining Sharlotte skating to the mournful, but somehow sensual tune had him more than a little intrigued.

Sharlotte skated away from him and picked up the choreography just in time for the opening soulful lyrics.

"_You set my soul at ease  
Chased darkness out of view  
Left your desperate spell on me  
Say you feel it too, I know you do  
I've got so much more to give  
This can't die, I yearn to live  
Pour yourself all over me  
And I'll cherish every drop here on my knees_!"

John skated back to the rink's wall to stay out of Sharlotte's way. He watched in awe as she skimmed gracefully over the ice, inserting imaginative footwork and elegant movements with her arms. She performed a flawless butterfly jump, switching from one leg to the other and eased into a camel spin. She then quickly transformed the maneuver into a donut spin—holding her foot up behind her head with her hands.

"How in the world…" he wondered out loud, as the song continued and Sharlotte built up her speed for the chorus. Watching her skate was beautiful enough, but watching her face enchanted John even further. She looked so happy. The passion she felt for the ice radiated from her face, her eyes—her entire self. And the lyrics to the song were not lost on him either. They seemed to mirror exactly what was happening between them.

"_I wanna love you forever  
And this is all I'm asking of you  
Ten thousand lifetimes together  
Is that so much for you to do?  
'Cuz from the moment that I saw your face  
And felt the fire in your sweet embrace  
I swear I knew, I'm gonna love you forever_!"

He felt his heart threaten to stop as he watched her do a half turn—the same half turn he'd watched her do right before her career-ending fall. "God, please…no…" he uttered. _She surely isn't going to really do it_. He hadn't meant for her to jeopardize herself. He wanted to shout for her to stop, but he was afraid yelling could cause even more danger for her if he distracted her at the wrong moment. To his horror, Sharlotte suddenly launched into the air and completed three revolutions, then came down gracefully onto one foot. Hardly even a second later, she launched with the other leg and completed another three revolutions before landing on one foot again.

When his chest started burning, John realized he'd been holding his breath. He exhaled sharply and watched in a mixture of amazement and pride as Sharlotte skated through the remainder of the mournful melody. As the song faded, she slowed her speed to match the fade and ended with an initially fast scratch spin that slowed drastically. She ended with her arms posed over her head.

She stood still a moment, absorbing the reality of what she'd just done. Then her hands came down in a prayerful position.

"Oh, my God," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I…I.." She couldn't find the words as tears burned her eyes. "I still can," she managed to cry softly. Then a single sob hiccupped deep from within her chest and she lost control of the tears. She was vaguely aware of the sound of skate blades slicing through ice. Then arms were pulling her up against a strong body.

"My God, did you hurt yourself," she heard John ask urgently. She could only sob softly as she felt John's hands prodding around her calf. "We need to get this skate off," he said, and in the next instant, he scooped her up into his arms and skated for the benches as he cradled her. Quickly, he gently deposited her onto the nearest seat and crouched down hurriedly, but gently loosening her skate's laces.

Sharlotte finally managed to get enough breath to say, "I'm okay, John."

He looked up at her, worry creasing his forehead and she instantly felt horrible for worrying him.

"You're not hurt," he asked softly.

She shook her head, "I'm s-sorry I scared you."

He brushed some hair away from her face and wiped a tear away with his thumb, "You _did_ scare me," he admitted with a slight smile. "But it's okay. I'm just glad you aren't hurt." He realized then she must've been overcome with emotion because of what she'd done. "You didn't know you could still do that, huh?"

She shook her head and fought off another round of sobs. "I had no idea."

John smiled, "I'm proud of you."

Sharlotte smiled through her tears, "Thank you." She stood to her feet and tugged John up by his hand so she could reach him easier and wrapped her arms around his neck in a close hug. "Thank you for bringing me here, and believing in me."

"Hey, you did the hard part, always remember that," John smiled as he hugged her in return. He nuzzled the crook of her neck and then dared to brush his lips over the soft skin. He heard her gasp and tense in his arms. He pulled her closer, and moved her hair out of the way, then proceeded to kiss her neck again with a long, sweet caress of his lips.

"J-John…" Sharlotte whispered. Goosebumps broke out across her skin and made her shiver. Her breathing became heavy as he kissed her again.

Smiling at her reaction, John trailed his lips to the front of her neck and dusted her adam's apple with a soft kiss before playfully nipping it with his teeth. He heard Sharlotte whimper softly, and her arms seemed to tighten around him. One of her hands traveled up to his head and held him in place as he continued to bestow more soft passionate kisses to her slender neck.

Sharlotte sighed softly as John's mouth ravished her neck. Her fingers curled against his scalp and he pulled her small frame closer against his large one.

"John…" she whispered breathlessly. "Oh, John…" Instinctively, she turned her face and kissed his neck softly in return. Hearing his soft growl in response, she kissed him again and ever so slightly flicked her tongue against the hollow of his throat.

He groaned loudly from the sensations he felt, and had to pry himself away from Sharlotte.

"I'm sorry," Sharlotte said instantly. "I didn't mean to-"

John smiled and cut her off, "No, don't be sorry," he chuckled. "You didn't do anything wrong. You did everything just right—that's the problem. I need to stop now or I won't be able to at all."

"Oh, my," Sharlotte said softly. "But that was…nice," she smiled, a blush creeping up her pretty face. "I can't lie, I liked that very much."

"And so did I," John replied, "I hope we can do that again soon—if you want to."

Sharlotte's blush deepened, as she replied, "I'd like that."

"I'm glad," he said, a full-fledged smile spreading across his face. "For now, why don't we go get some dinner to take back to your place—my treat."

"I am pretty hungry now," Sharlotte grinned mischievously. "Let me just change into my shoes, go shut off everything in the sound room and turn out the lights, then we can go."

Minutes later, she was locking up the skating rink and following John back to his convertible.

* * *

**Author's Note:** If any of the figure skating descriptions or terms confuse you or you don't know what they mean, you can do a Google search on the terms themselves and find out what they are (Ex. "Sit Spin", "Camel Spin", etc.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Rating: R **(Shouldn't reach "R" proportions [definitely not sexually], but am putting "R" just to be safe)  
**Story Contents/Warnings: **Violence and some adult-ish situations (heavy make-out sessions—no sex descriptions. There may be sex involved in the story, but it will not be descriptive)  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

Randy stepped out of the gym's shower stall and grabbed his towel, drying off and dressing in a hurry so he could get back to the hotel and rest for a little while before heading to the arena for the live taping that evening. Shoving his gym clothing into his bag, he spotted his script for the night sticking out of the side panel. He picked it up and glanced at the first page when his eyes fell on the yellow post-it at the top of the paper.

"_I had to make some alterations to the schedule tonight. Cena had to take a personal night off so I made you Phil's opponent tonight instead of having you tag with Kofi. If you have any questions, feel free to give me a call on my cell.  
_

_~Steph_"

"What the…" Randy said, pulling out his cell phone. "I have some questions all right," he thought out loud, "But they're not for you." He highlighted John's number and sent the call through. A couple rings later, the call was answered, and he heard John's laughter.

Growing irritated, he sighed into the phone with exasperation, "John?"

"_Yeah, what's up, Randy_?"

"Having fun," Randy asked, a definite challenge in his voice. "What are you doing?"

"_I'm at Sharlotte's house. I had something important I needed to tell her_."

"Doesn't sound too serious to me," Randy replied, "judging from the laughter I hear."

"_Look, Randy, chill out_," John shot back. "_I never take a night off, and I needed to_-"

"Yeah, you're right about that," Randy said. "You never take a night off, so why now?"

He heard John sigh, "_Hang on a sec. Sharlotte, I'll be back in a minute. Randy and I need to talk work_." Randy heard Sharlotte's voice then, "_Of course_! _Go ahead. You can take it outside or use my room if you want_." A few seconds later, John spoke again, "_Okay, Randy_…_I needed to talk to Sharlotte about a report on TMZ_—_it was about us_."

Randy remembered then. Earlier in the day he'd heard some buzz and chatter around the arena about a wrestler being caught up in a scandalous gossip report. He just hadn't caught the name of said wrestler.

"Oh, so _you're_ the one," Randy said finally.

"_You've heard about it too_?"

"Not any full details," Randy clarified. "All I heard was a wrestler had gotten involved in some scandalous affair and that some gossip site had gotten wind of it."

He heard John groan, "'_Scandalous affair_'… _Some idiot took some photos of me and Sharlotte the night I stayed over at her house. And of course TMZ had to use them out of context_."

Randy began to understand, though he still didn't see where it warranted John missing a night of work.

"And you couldn't have told her about it over the phone instead of missing tonight?"

"_There's more, Randy_," John said. "_I can't talk about it over the phone, and I don't want to talk about it to anyone but Sharlotte because frankly, it's not anyone's business but her's and mine. Plus, I don't want to risk the wrong ears hearing it and causing me more grief_."

Randy groaned, "Okay, fine. I need to get going, I'm running a little behind now. I'll catch ya later, man."

"_Yeah, later_," John said, slight agitation in his voice.

Randy heard the line click, signifying that John had disconnected the call. "What is going on with him," he wondered, tossing his script into his bag. He then highlighted Phil's number and sent a call through, knowing they needed to discuss the details of their match for the night.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Randy thinks I'm bad news, doesn't he," Sharlotte asked John as they sat down on the porch swing together.

Lana had stayed in the kitchen cleaning up while the boys went upstairs to play video games till RAW came on. Sharlotte and John had tried to insist on helping, but she shooed them out of the room.

"You don't get to take time off like this often," she'd told John. "You two go hang out. There's not much to do in here anyway."

Grateful to Lana, they both took her advice and went out on the porch to talk for a little while.

John shook his head slightly, "Randy's just worried about me. We've been close friends for over a decade."

"I understand where he's coming from," Sharlotte admitted. "I know if I was in his shoes, I wouldn't like some nobody fan coming along and taking up some of my friend's time and causing him to miss some work—especially during a divorce. I'd be suspicious too."

"You aren't a 'nobody' by far," John said, reaching over and draping his arm around her shoulders. "And you're more than a fan to me, Sharlotte—_much_ more. You don't cause me to miss work, either. You had no idea I was coming to visit."

She smiled up at him. "I know you have fans fawning over you all the time. Some of them care about you, I'm sure, because it's difficult not to care about you," she told him. "But I also know you're bound to have fans that just care about the fact you're famous. I just hope you'll know someday soon…I'm not one of those. I'm real, and what you see is what you get."

John nodded, bashfully avoiding her gaze, "I know that already."

And he did. Seeing how protective and loving she was toward Noah—especially without the knowledge of John being the boy's father—proved that.

"I'm glad," Sharlotte replied, leaning back against his arm. She took hold of his chin and turned his face to hers, "You're a _lot_ more to me than just a wrestler or actor. You're so much more than your name or your occupation. Don't ever let anybody tell you different."

He took her hand and kissed it, "I won't. And thank you, Sharlotte."

She pulled his hand over to her lips and returned the kiss, "Don't thank me for speaking the truth."

Smiling, he pulled her closer and she laid her head against his shoulder. "When do you have to leave," she asked with a touch of sadness.

"Tomorrow's a regular day off for me," John answered, a smile in his voice. "How about you?"

"Tuesdays are usually free for me as well," Sharlotte returned. Her tone sounded much brighter. "Hmmm, what to do, what to do…" she said teasingly.

He chuckled just as her cell phone sounded an alert. Groaning, she pulled the phone out of the pocket of her shorts. "Just as I thought," she said, frustration evident on her face as she stared at the screen. "More harassment."

"What does it say," John asked, peering to see the phone.

"'_John's not even divorced yet_! _Let him stay single for a while_'", she read aloud.

He laughed, "I sure hope that's a kid. It's not very imaginative."

"It _is_ a kid," she chuckled as well and teased him. "You should feel terrible. I'm getting jerked around by your ruthless fan girls."

"They'll get bored sooner or later," John told her, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. "Amy went through the same crap when photos from the night I proposed to her were leaked out to a dirt sheet."

Sharlotte nodded, "I imagine she got it _really_ bad, since you were engaged."

"Eh, she egged it on. She knew my female fan base hated her, so she did everything she could to tick them off. I wouldn't be surprised if _she_ was the one who leaked the photos."

Sharlotte shook her head, "Very mature."

"Yeah," John agreed, "That's what I like about you. You're _nothing_ like her." He saw her flush and semi-changed the subject. "Are you sure it's okay with you for me to stay here? I mean, what with that stupid report and all."

"I'm not going to let some stupid gossip-hungry tabloid reporter ruin my time with you," she answered determinedly. "If you want to stay here, then I'd love for you to stay."

"You have to know I want to," John teased, tickling her ribs lightly. He laughed at her loud round of giggles. "You're hypersensitive around the ribs, huh," he asked, tickling her again.

"STOP," she squealed, helplessly scrunching herself up into a ball to protect herself.

"Mom! John! Time for RAW!"

Sharlotte smiled up at John as they stood to their feet. "I feel kind of bad for the audience tonight."

"Oh, yeah? Why's that," John asked her, playing with a lock of her hair.

"Because they won't get to see you tonight."

He kissed the tip of her nose, "They'll survive. I needed to see you today."

"I'm glad, because I needed to see you too."

"_Mom_!"

"We're coming," Sharlotte called back, chuckling. She turned back to John, "I guess we'd better get in there, huh?"

"Yep," John nodded and draped his arm around her shoulders again—partly because he wanted her close, and partly because he wanted Noah to get used to seeing them together.

_Because I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon_, he thought, smiling happily. He secretly was glad Noah thought of Sharlotte as his mother. _Because_,_ should we get serious, it'll make things a lot easier when he finds out I'm his father._

For the next three hours, the three adults and two kids sat in the living room and watched Monday Night RAW, eager to see how it would go what with Sharlotte's and Noah's interviews, not to mention John's absence.

The interviews aired within the first hour and Sharlotte was happy with how they turned out. The staff did really well with the editing so it would tug at a person's heartstrings. The video package ended with footage of Stephanie McMahon standing in front of the Taylors' home and pleading with the WWE Universe to sign a petition that would force the superintendent and principal to implement a zero-tolerance policy on bullying. She also encouraged the fans to write the superintendent themselves addressing the issue.

"Wow," Lana declared, "They made that look incredible! That principal will _have_ to do something now!"

"He'll look like a total louse, if he doesn't," Sharlotte added as her cell phone rang off an alert.

"And cue the fan girls," Lana laughed.

Sharlotte rolled her eyes and turned off the phone for the evening. "Good grief. This is worse than _Christmas With the Kranks_, when the kids rallied at the Kranks' house and chanted, "Free Frosty!" every chance they got," she joked.

John laughed and lightly squeezed Sharlotte's neck to relax her. All joking aside, he could see the harassment was beginning to unnerve her.

They all settled back into the program then and watched Randy's match with C.M. Punk. They couldn't help but notice the fact Randy was taking some obvious frustration out on his opponent. John could see, as Randy chopped Punk across the chest, that he was using unnecessary stiffness with the smaller, tattooed wrestler.

At one point during the match, Sharlotte had to actually avert her eyes when she saw Randy preparing to Irish whip Punk into steel ring post. Though it didn't stop her from hearing the thud of Punk's body hitting the post, _or_ his groan of pain. She couldn't help but feel horrible because of the beating he was taking—heel or not.

_Randy is definitely angry_, she thought. Feeling as though it was her fault, she took comfort in the feel of John's hand seeking hers. She glanced up at him beside her on the sofa and managed a small smile.

"Quit worrying," John whispered.

"I'm not worrying," she whispered back. "I just feel badly for Punk."

"He'll be fine. Trust me. We can all take a beating."

"I believe that," she said softly. "I've seen you take too many."

"Just makes me tougher, baby," he replied, lacing his fingers through hers.

She squeezed his hand in return, snuggling closer to his side and hugging his arm to her body.

Unbeknownst to them, Lana watched their actions from across the room and smiled.

_I won't have to play matchmaker after all,_ she thought, smiling inwardly. _They're falling in love all on their own_! She'd often thought John came across very genuine and authentic when it came to his more female-friendly storylines in WWE, but all of the romantic angles he'd worked paled in comparison to the way he looked at Sharlotte. _The man is so far gone_, _there's no hope for him_, she chuckled to herself and glanced over at her friend then. _And Sharly is just..._hopelessly_ in love. _

She turned her attention to RAW then, but her attention was once again captured when she noticed John stirring. He stood slowly to his feet, his full attention on Sharlotte. As he moved, Lana caught a glimpse of her and saw Sharlotte had fallen asleep. John stooped down and gently lifted her up from the sofa, trying not to wake her. Once he had her securely cradled in his arms, he turned and headed toward the stairs. He glanced over at Lana and smiled. "Taking her to her bed," he whispered. "She's had a big day."

Lana nodded and returned his smile, "Yeah, I should get home," she whispered softly, and glanced over at Tyler and Noah. "You boys get to bed after RAW goes off."

They nodded, though their attention was on John and Sharlotte.

Lana quietly said goodnight to John and the boys, and then gathered her things to leave as John went up the stairs. He carried Sharlotte into her bedroom, and seconds later, he was gently depositing her limp frame onto the bed. She stirred slightly as he pulled the covers up over her, and sighed in her sleep.

"Shh," John whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get some sleep, Sharlotte. We'll have tomorrow together."

The corners of her mouth tugged upward in a dreamy, sleep ridden smile then, and she whispered soft, incoherent words. John missed what she said and leaned down to her face, "What was that, sweetie?"

She smiled again as her hand clumsily searched for his. He took it, curling his fingers around hers and kissed her palm.

"I love you," she whispered, and turned onto her side, hugging his hand to her heart.

John exhaled sharply, taken by surprise. A smile spread across his handsome face as he brushed some hair out of her face with his free hand. "You _would_ have to say that when you're asleep," he chuckled softly. He bent down and brushed his lips over her cheek. "I love you, too, Sharlotte," he whispered in her ear. "I think I fell in love with you from the first time you tweeted me." She whimpered as though she was trying to wake herself. "I wish you were awake," John told her, tracing his finger lightly over her soft lips. "I'd kiss you senseless—I'm dying to."

Knowing he was going to leave with yet more frustrations, he tried to gently tug his hand free of her hold without waking her. She moaned softly in protest and gripped his hand a little tighter, "Stay with me," she whispered.

His heart melting, he smiled at her sleeping form, "Okay, love. Just let me go check on the boys and I'll come back. Deal?"

She smiled again in her sleep and allowed him to pull his hand free.

He chuckled as he stood to his feet, "Heaven help me if you ever find out how wrapped around your finger I am."

He left the room then to make sure the boys got to bed on time, and went into the bathroom to change into a pair of sweat pants. Then he hurried back to Sharlotte's room and settled into bed beside her.

She seemed to know it was John whom had climbed into bed with her because she turned over then, facing him, and snuggled into his chest.

John kissed the top of her head and held her close against him as he drifted off to sleep.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Sharlotte opened her eyes against the bright morning light, and smiled when she heard the boys' and John's voices laughing from downstairs.

_John_, she thought dreamily, flipping onto her stomach.

She buried her face into her pillow and sighed contentedly. Then it occurred to her to wonder how she'd gotten upstairs the night before. She had no memory of getting ready for bed at all. She rose up onto her elbows and looked at her clothing. She was still in her exercise shorts and tank top.

_John must've carried me up here_, she thought. Then she giggled happily at the thought of being in his arms once more. She flopped back down on her stomach and closed her eyes again, while a smile stretched across her face. _I can't stop smiling, Lord. Thank you for this happiness_. She sighed softly, and decided to get a little more rest before she started the day.

Minutes later, she was near dozing off when she felt her hair being pushed away from the back of her neck followed by lips brushing over the sensitive skin. Thinking she was about to start dreaming, she snuggled deeper into her pillow and groaned softly.

The feel of kisses being administered to the back of her neck moved lower, and traveled lightly over her upper spine. Her fingers curled into the pillow at her face and she moaned quietly. The kisses trailed back up to her shoulder, lightly nipping her skin and she felt the delicious sensation of chill bumps prickling her skin.

"If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up," she mumbled to herself. To her chagrin, she heard John chuckle above her.

"Well, you're not dreaming, but it's flattering that you find my kisses so enjoyable."

She flipped over onto her back, and tried to be angry. But one look at the adorable expression on his face and she couldn't follow through.

"Oh, you," she huffed. "I'm glad you get so much fun out of embarrassing me to death!"

John flashed his dimples at her, "No, no, no," he teasingly chided, "I don't like to embarrass you. I just like to see you blush. It's a beautiful sight."

As if on cue, Sharlotte's cheeks flamed a deep pink.

"I rest my case," John grinned, then placed his hands on either side of her head, lightly pinning her against the mattress. "Good morning," he whispered in her ear as he leaned down. His lips were on her neck a second later. She gasped as he placed a soft kiss beneath her ear then at her pulse, and continued trailing barely-there kisses to the front of her neck.

"It certainly is," she sighed dreamily, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. "What a way to wake up." His full weight collapsed against her as she pulled him nearer and she felt him smile against her neck.

"I agree," John growled playfully, nipping her earlobe. He nuzzled her neck then, and proceeded to tease her shoulder with his teeth. She squirmed beneath him when his mouth dusted a few feather-soft kisses to the hollow of her throat.

Sharlotte inhaled sharply as his lips slowly made their way to the top of her sternum.

"Oh, my word…" she whispered, curling her fingers into the back of his shirt, "That feels so nice… But…"

He smiled at her reaction and kissed the area again, "I know. You need me to stop. I'm sorry—got carried away." He rose up and kissed her cheek then, "I actually came up here intending to wake you for breakfast in bed while I take Tyler to school. Noah wants to go too—I hope that's okay."

He walked over to her desk and picked up a tray after Sharlotte nodded her consent. Once she'd settled herself against the pillows and was sitting up, John set the tray in her lap. She saw he'd cooked an omelet with bacon and cheese, and some buttered toast. There was a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice as well.

"Oh, my goodness," she smiled, "That was so sweet of you. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," he told her. "Eat up and we'll be back before you know it."

She nodded, giving him a small smile as he left the room, and then began to eat her breakfast.

"Oh, Lord, have mercy. The man _so_ can cook," she exclaimed, after biting into the luscious omelet. She hurriedly ate the food, even though she wanted to saver the flavors, so she could primp a little before John got back.

Running the dishes down to the kitchen and quickly loading them into the dishwasher, she ran back upstairs to brush her teeth and wash her face.

With those feats taken care of, she dug through her drawers for a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt.

The doorbell rang then, and she groaned.

"Who in the world would be-" Her thoughts cut off when she thought of John possibly forgetting where the hidden house key was located. Deciding the change of clothes would have to wait, she ran down the stairs and to the front door. She instantly yanked it open as she chuckled, "Forget where they key wa-" She stopped when she saw the man she was facing was definitely not John Cena. "I'm sorry…Can I help you," she asked curiously.

The man looked a little less than friendly as he stared at her. His collar-length, blond hair was disheveled and he had a bad case of five o'clock shadow on his face. His brown eyes pierced into hers as he prepared to speak.

"I saw those anti-bully campaign interviews last night," he said, leaning in toward her.

Though he didn't slur his words, Sharlotte could see he was obviously drunk. Trying to keep her cool, she raised her chin slightly and addressed him.

"Yes," she prodded. "I had to do what I could to defend my…" she hesitated at first, but then remembered how quickly Noah had taken to calling her 'mom'. "My son."

"That wasn't necessary," he said irritably. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Well, the principle refused to do anything about it. Are you the bully's parent? Why didn't you do something to stop this? I wouldn't have had to resort to such extreme measures."

"Don't tell me how to raise my boy," he yelled, instantly angry. "And don't try to make this my fault!"

"Then don't come on my private property and tell me not to protect my child," Sharlotte retorted, thankful for the fact Noah was out of the house. "You're drunk, sir," she said, letting her eyes fully take in his appearance then. _Or he's high_, she realized, as her gaze fell on his forearms. Sores and scabs covered them. "Leave my home, and don't come back." She moved away so she could slam the door, when the man stuck his foot in the entryway, preventing the door's shutting.

"Get out of here," Sharlotte repeated through clenched teeth.

In truth, she was growing frightened, but she didn't want to give the man the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

To her surprise, he shoved the door open, consequently hurling her back into the foyer. She crashed against the hall mirror and sent it shattering to the floor as a cry of fright forced its way past her lips. She managed to right herself when he stepped inside, shutting and locking the door behind him.

"Look, just leave," she cried, backing away from him while trying to think of a plan. "You've not done anything to me. Keep it that way, and I won't have to call the cops," she lied.

"I'm not worried about you calling the cops, little girl," the man growled. He pulled out a switchblade and flicked the blade out. "I warned you, about paying the consequences if you caused me any more trouble."

Sharlotte tried to keep her senses as she inched her way to the staircase. "Please, don't," she said, holding her hands up in a defenseless gesture. "There's no reason for you to hurt me. I've not-"

"SHUT-UP!"

Seeing she wouldn't be able to reason with the man, she spun around and ran up the stairs as quickly as she could. Her foot had just stepped on the upper landing when she felt herself going down. She instantly kicked out with her foot and landed a blow to the man's face, then wasted no time in scrambling to her feet. She darted into her bedroom, and locked the door behind her.

By the time she got to her night table, he was pounding on her door. With shaking hands, she grabbed up her cordless phone and dialed 9-1-1.

"_9-1-1, what's your emergency_?"

"A man broke into my house. There's no time for questions," she blurted and quickly rattled off her information. "Sharlotte Taylor, 2307 Hudson Road, please send the police! He's trying to kill me!"

Sharlotte wasn't sure she could be heard over the pounding at her door so she left the phone on and laid it on her night table in case the operator needed to trace the call.

"It's only gonna get more painful the longer you drag this out!"

Sobbing quietly, Sharlotte looked around her room for a weapon. Her gaze fell on her shelf of skating trophies and she grabbed one to use as a club. Quickly, she hurried to the space next to her door so she could hide and hit him over the head when he came through.

She didn't act a moment too soon. The door busted open as soon as she raised the trophy over her head. She immediately sent it sailing downward. The man seemed to be onto her however, because he turned and struck out with his knife at the same time.

Luckily for Sharlotte, the trophy protected her from a fatal blow with the knife, but it failed to keep her from receiving a cut on her forearm. And it also didn't strike the man's head as she'd intended. It instead sent the knife clattering to the floor. With a scream of fear, she tried a second time to hit the man on the head. He blocked the hit and yanked the trophy out of her hand.

"I should hit _you_ over the head with this," he growled, hefting the trophy tauntingly in his hand.

They both heard the front door open then, followed by John's voice.

"Sharlotte! Baby, where are you?!"

_Oh, Lord, please help us. _She felt a mixture of fear and relief. _John won't let him hurt me, but what if _he_ gets hurt_? _What if Noah is inside the house too_?

The man was distracted by John's voice, and Sharlotte chose to act on it. Trying to catch him by surprise, she flew at him in an attempt to send him soaring into the hallway. All the noise would alert John to be on the ready and she knew he could take it from there. The man turned back to face her a second before she reached him. Like lightning, he grabbed her by the neck and slapped her to the floor. Then scrambling to pick up the switchblade, he dove on top of her and prepared to drive the knife into her chest.

Screaming in terror, Sharlotte latched onto his wrist and held on for dear life, keeping the blade as far from her chest as possible. She screamed again as she felt her grip slipping.

"Please, Lord, help me," she prayed in a whisper as the man pressed down harder on the knife.

There were footsteps on the stairs in the next instant, and then the answer to Sharlotte's prayers came charging into the room and tackling her attacker away from her.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

John pulled in front of Sharlotte's house when he saw an unfamiliar pickup truck in her driveway. Figuring a friend had stopped by for a visit, he nonetheless took no chances.

"Noah, do you know that truck," he asked, nodding toward the slightly old Chevy Silverado.

Noah looked up from all the gadgets and knobs he'd been admiring on John's dashboard, and looked to where John pointed. He paled instantly.

"That's Jake's dad's truck."

"Who's Jake," John asked, dreading the answer.

"One of the kids who bullied me."

John fought the urge to curse in front of his son, and clenched his teeth instead. "Okay, Noah…I want you to stay in the car—no matter what, understand?" He hit the button for the top on the convertible to go up.

Noah nodded reluctantly.

"I'm going to lock the doors with you inside, and if anyone comes up and tries to get to you, blast the horn and don't stop until you see me, got it," he asked, pointing to his steering wheel.

Again, Noah nodded.

With that, John jumped out of the car, slammed his door shut and then locked the doors with his key. He instantly heard Sharlotte's shrill scream from inside the home and then he was bolting for the large house. Within a couple seconds, he was at the door and turning the doorknob, but to no avail. Cursing under his breath, he stepped over to the garden rocks lining the flower bed, and grabbed up the fake rock which held the spare house key.

A short moment later, he was busting through the door and barreling down the foyer's hallway. He saw a shattered mirror on the floor, and panicked.

"Sharlotte," he yelled. "Baby, where are you?!"

He heard a struggle coming from upstairs followed by Sharlotte's terrified scream, and in the next instant he was running hurriedly up the steps. Within a couple seconds, he was standing in her bedroom doorway, and had trouble processing the horror in front of him.

A man was on top of Sharlotte. And he was gripping a knife dangerously close to her heart.

His vision went red.

Shouting in rage, he dove at the man in an offensive tackle and sent him flying backward into the wall. Sharlotte cringed away from them, and though John wanted to check on her well-being, he knew he couldn't leave her attacker unsupervised. So he forced himself to step past her and approached the lowlife instead.

"You're a dead man," he growled, grabbing the man by the collar and dragging him across the room and away from Sharlotte. He sent him soaring into the hallway and followed after him. He again grabbed the man by the collar and mercilessly dished out several hard punches to his face. "You come near her again, and I will not hesitate in killing you—_very slowly_," John said through clenched teeth. "Do you understand me? _I'LL KILL YOU_!"

The man spat out a mouthful of blood and scowled at John through his already swelling eyes. "She…d-deserved it…" Then he proceeded to call her a derogatory term.

John yanked the man closer to his face and gave him a glare that would've frightened the devil. "Wrong answer." With that, he hurled the man headfirst into the wall then punched him again.

The man made an attempt to punch John, but the blow was blocked and he received a tackle for his trouble—a tackle which sent both he and John tumbling down the stairs.

"JOHN! NO!"

John was vaguely aware of Sharlotte's cry as the two men rolled over one another. He still attempted a few punches on his way down. They rolled a couple more times out onto the landing and then came to a stop.

With caution, John tested his neck out and each of his limbs to make sure nothing was broken. Then he eyed the intruder beneath him.

His eyes were open, but he wasn't moving—at all.

"John… Oh, God. Please…"

Reaching over to the man, John felt for his pulse. As he suspected, there was nothing.

"Sorry, pal, but I can't bring myself to feel bad about it," he muttered, rising to his feet. He looked up at the staircase and found Sharlotte feebly making her way down the stairs. Her eyes were fixed on him, wide with fear.

"I'm okay, honey," he said, realizing his tumble down the stairs had scared her to death. "I'm fine."

He saw the relief wash over her as she leaned against the wall for support. Tears streamed down her face and she shakily held onto the banister to keep her balance.

Afraid she'd drop and fall down the remainder of the stairs, John was by her side in the next instant. He supported her weight and looked into her eyes. Her dazed gaze met his and she cried softly, relieved he was safe.

"Thank God," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tight.

"Yes," John agreed, but not due to _his_ safety—for Sharlotte's. "Thank God." He hugged her closely for a moment but then realized she needed to be checked over. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her down the stairs and into the living room, turning her so she'd not get full view of the man's dead body. Then he hurried over to the sofa and set her down on it, taking care to not hurt her. He sat down next to her to inspect her injuries. "God, what did he do to you," he asked as he was finally able to wholly take in her appearance. Her cheek was a deep shade of pink with a large welt rising up on it. He turned her face to better inspect the mark and cursed when she flinched at his touch. "I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered. He worried when she became unresponsive to him. "Sharlotte, honey, talk to me," he said softly. "Let me know you're okay."

"I'm okay," she replied softly. "I'm just glad you weren't injured."

"Don't worry about me," John said, pulling out his cell phone to call the police. "I'm not even hurting."

"I already called 9-1-1," she said, eyeing his cell phone. "They should be here soon." Her eyes grew wider then. "Is the man…" she started, "Is he…a-alive?"

"He's dead."

Her eyes fell on his, "Oh my- Did you mean to…What if you're arrested?"

"Death wasn't what I was going for, no," John answered. "I warned him I'd kill him if he came near you again—and I meant it, but I wasn't trying to kill him this time." He began looking at the cut on her arm. "I tackled him and when we fell down the stairs, I guess his neck broke." He sucked in a breath when he fully saw the cut. If it had been deep, it would have done some definite damage. "And I can't say I'm sorry about it," he muttered. "Is this the only cut you have?"

Sharlotte nodded, "Y-yes. I don't think it's bad."

John nodded, after inspecting it further. "It isn't deep. Just a scratch—what a relief. You won't need stitches." He stood and walked over to the windows, looking out for signs of the police's arrival. "I hope the cops hurry up." He looked over at her and shook his head, disgusted with himself. "This is all my fault," he told her, walking back to the sofa.

"No," Sharlotte started, amazed that he'd place the blame on himself. He sat down beside her again and avoided her gaze as she continued, "It's not-"

"I should have taken you along with me and the boys," he interrupted, self-loathing in his voice.

"No," Sharlotte cried again, shaking her head emphatically. She reached over and turned his face to hers. "Then that man may have come back at another time when you weren't here at all. He could've hurt Noah too. It's better it happened this way—with only me getting hurt."

John gazed at her, mesmerized by her protective instincts. "Don't say it like that," he scolded softly, brushing the back of his hand tenderly over her uninjured cheek. "You talk like you don't matter."

She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Could you hold me," she whispered.

He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead, "Better," he asked.

She gazed into his eyes, "Almost. Hold me tighter?"

"I don't want to hurt you," he protested, not knowing how much pain she was in.

"You won't," she said, managing a soft smile. "Please?"

He lifted her gently, and pulled her across his lap. She settled against him and his arms closed around her a little tighter, holding her close while they waited for the authorities. He felt her face against his neck and the tremors of her slender body against his.

"Are you okay," he asked worriedly, running his hand up and down her back in soothing circles.

She didn't answer right away.

"Y-yes. I am now," she said finally. He felt a sob rip through her body however, and she clutched at his t-shirt. "I thought he would kill me."

He could hear the tears in her voice and wished the man's death would have been slower. _Thank you God, for helping me get to her in time._ Afraid of what could have happened, he was unable to fight off his desires any longer. He looked down at Sharlotte with a determined jut of his chin and then spoke softly, "Honey, look at me."

His soft terms of endearment melted over her and made her feel warm and safe. She managed to turn her face upward, and gazed into his eyes.

"Please don't be angry at me," he whispered softly, tilting her chin back a little further.

Confusion settled into her gray eyes, "Why would I be ang-"

Her words were cut off as John bent his head down and captured her mouth beneath his. It took her a moment to comprehend what was happening, but then John turned his head slightly, changing the angle of his kiss and she melted against him with a soft sigh. As her eyes fluttered closed, she slid her hand up past his chest and held on to his neck. A soft groan rumbled in his throat and he gently pulled her closer against him, teasing her lips with his own.

"J-John…" she whispered against his mouth. "Please…"

Unsure if she was pleading with him to stop or to continue, John went with his instincts and kissed her a little harder, being careful to not hurt her. He was rewarded by a soft moan and the feel of her fingernails digging slightly into his neck. Then her mouth began to move with his and he nearly came unglued from the sensation. He groaned again and knew if he didn't stop soon, he'd lose control and most likely frighten her. Swallowing her soft, passionate sigh, he then broke the kiss but gave her one last soft peck to let her know he didn't really want to stop.

Gazing down at her, he saw her eyes take on a dreamy look. He smiled and nuzzled her nose with his. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that," he whispered.

She flushed, and seemed to struggle for words.

"That…was…"

"Amazing, from my perspective," he said, giving her soft lips another quick kiss. "I'll definitely have to do that again, very soon."

"Please do," Sharlotte managed to say.

They heard a siren growing nearer in the distance then and knew the cops would soon arrive. Dreading the load of questions they'd have to answer, they both stood and walked out the front door and onto the porch.

Noah saw them and cautiously opened his door, "Is it okay to come out now," he called.

John nodded and motioned him over as Sharlotte pulled the front door closed. The siren grew slightly louder as Noah stepped up on the porch and looked at her wearily.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, baby," Sharlotte said softly, pulling him into a hug. "John took care of it. Thank God you weren't here."

"Where is he," Noah asked. "Jake's dad."

"He had an accident," John answered for Sharlotte. "We both fell down the stairs, and he didn't make it."

"He died?" Noah looked horrified.

"Yes, he did. And I feel badly for his kid… But he was trying to hurt Sharlotte," John explained. "I couldn't let him do that."

"Thank you for saving her, John," Noah said, hugging him around the waist. "She's…" his eyes welled up with tears. "She's all I have."

At the boy's proclamation, Sharlotte had tears streaming down her face all over again.

John knelt down in front of the boy and patted his cheek, "Not anymore, bud. You have_ me_,too." He wanted to let them know the truth right then, but he knew the timing was horrible as the police car sounded as if it was only a short distance away. _Hopefully soon I can tell them_, he thought.

Noah's tears multiplied, "I love you," he cried, hugging John around the neck.

"I love you, too, kiddo," John replied softly, hugging Noah in return. He fought the sting of tears in his eyes as well.

The police siren was deafening then, and John knew chaos was about to ensue. He kissed Noah on top of the head and stood to his feet.

A squad car pulled up in the driveway and two male police officers exited the car, then headed toward them.

"We had a 9-1-1 call from a Sharlotte Taylor at this address. What's the problem," one of the officers asked, once they reached the porch.

"She was attacked," John explained, pointing out Sharlotte's cheek. "I got here just in time to find a man holding her down and trying to stab her."

"Where is the perpetrator?"

"He's inside, dead," John answered truthfully. We fought, and as I tackled him, we both fell down the stairs. He wasn't moving, so I checked his pulse, and…he was gone."

The officers looked over at Sharlotte as if asking her to confirm or deny his story.

"That's exactly what happened," Sharlotte replied. "A man knocked on my door, forced his way in and attacked me." She looked toward John then, "I was very grateful to this man for saving my life."

"Okay, we're going to need detailed statements on what happened here, so let's go inside so you can sit down and relax."

"Um, is it okay If my son goes in the kitchen?…The body… I don't want him to see it," Sharlotte explained.

"If that isn't one of the rooms the attack took place in, that's just fine," one of the officers answered.

They all went into the house, and Sharlotte covered Noah's eyes as she led him around the body and into the kitchen.

"Just stay in here and do not come out for any reason, okay," she instructed the boy.

He nodded, "Can I get a snack?"

"Sure," she replied, "We'll try to hurry this is as much as possible."

She turned to leave the kitchen when John entered the room.

"Let's clean that scratch first," he suggested, reaching into the cabinet above the microwave and pulling down the first-aid kit. Within a couple minutes, he had the scratch on her arm cleaned and a band-aid over it. "Is your tetanus shot current, or should you go get one?"

"I had one about a year ago, so it should be good to go," Sharlotte answered, smiling at him. "You're cute when you worry."

He flashed his dimples and grinned, "_Only_ when I worry?"

Sharlotte chuckled, "No, not only when you worry. All the time, actually," she replied with a flush to her cheeks.

He leaned down, preparing to kiss her, when an officer came to the doorway, "Everything okay in here? Is that cut deep?"

Sharlotte reluctantly turned toward the cop, "Yes, everything is fine. And no the cut isn't deep. We were just about to come in and give our information."

With that she and John followed the cop back into the living room and sat down on the sofa.

"So, how long should this take," Sharlotte asked, eager to be done with the whole thing so she could put it behind her. She felt badly that the man lost his life, but she knew he would've killed her and John if he'd had the chance. She was grateful to be alive.

"We'll need to collect any and all evidence from the scene, so you'll need to be out of the house for at least a few hours, maybe even the night."

"Not a problem," John replied instantly.

"Not a problem," Sharlotte repeated, "Yes, it is. I don't have another home to-"

John smiled, "It's okay, Sharlotte. We can go out and do some stuff together, and if worse comes to worst we can stay at a hotel."

Sharlotte smiled back at him. It was nice to have someone help her see the glass as half-full at times like that.

"Okay," she replied. "It's not a problem."

A few moments later, she and John were seated at the sofa, and the cops sat in chairs which John brought in from the kitchen.

Then the questions began.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry to do the re-write (I try not to do those if at all possible) but something just bugged me about the other way I'd written it. I'm still not 100% happy with this way, but I feel better about it. Sorry to cut out SOME of the drama, lol, but don't worry, there's going to be PLENTY of drama in this story, lol. Hope this is enjoyed! Oh, and to those of you who've already commented on this chapter previously, don't worry about commenting it again, unless you just really want to (however if you do it'll have to be done via private message.) Again, I hope this is still enjoyed despite the changes I made to it! :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Rating: R **(Shouldn't reach "R" proportions [definitely not sexually], but am putting "R" just to be safe)  
**Story Contents/Warnings: **Violence and some adult-ish situations (heavy make-out sessions—no sex descriptions. There may be sex involved in the story, but it will not be descriptive)  
**Pairing: **John Cena/OC-Sharlotte Taylor  
**Disclaimers**: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

**Author's Note**: I had to make a little addition toward the end of Chapter 17. I forgot to write that John cleaned Sharlotte's scratch & all that (can't have him looking so indifferent toward her being wounded, lol).  
**  
**Thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this and also to those of you who are leaving feedback on it. :)** At Wattpad, please vote for the chapter if you enjoyed it! Would greatly appreciate it! :)**

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

"Shoot," Sharlotte whispered to herself as she watched the CSI team continue combing over her stairs for evidence. Her gaze met John's when she heard him walk in from the kitchen.

Carrying a glass of iced tea for them each, he glanced around the large living room. "So, did the cops get finished with your statement," he asked, noting their absence. He handed Sharlotte a glass and sat down beside her on the sofa.

"Yes, they just left a couple minutes ago, but the CSI team is still working," she answered softly, taking a sip of tea from her glass. "I can't get up to our rooms to pack anything, and it looks like we _will_ have to stay the night somewhere," she said, eyeing the Crime Scene Investigators. "They're not even halfway through with the stairs, and then there's the upper hallway and my bedroom to comb over as well."

"Don't sweat it," John told her. "We can go shopping and I'll buy you guys some clothes."

"No way, John," Sharlotte said, shaking her head. "That's too much. We'll manage. We can just sleep in the clothes we have on and-"

"Nope," he interrupted with a stubborn smirk. "No way. The kid's in jeans. Do you know how uncomfortable jeans are when you sleep in them?"

"No," she admitted, rolling her head around to ease some tension in her neck. "Do you?"

"Yeah," John answered, "Let's just say I've had my share of lost luggage and that the jeans didn't stay on for long. I wish sleeping in jeans on no one—especially not my-." He halted his words just in the nick of time. _I can't believe I almost called Noah my son in front of Sharlotte_, he thought in panic. _She'd probably have a heart attack after what she's already been through._ "E-especially not m-my friends," he managed to stammer out a conclusion to his previous sentence.

Sharlotte chuckled, and leaned back against the sofa. "Okay, a _little_ shopping."

John internally breathed a sigh of relief when she showed no signs of noticing his potential ___faux pas_.

"But, I'm paying you back on my next paycheck," she added with a sly smile.

"Oh, no you're not."

"Oh, _yes_ I am."

"Don't you know by now to not argue with me," John teased, tweaking her chin playfully.

"Oh, you," Sharlotte laughed, smacking his shoulder with a mischievous twinkle in her gray eyes.

"Behave, or I may have to kiss some of that feistiness out of you," he challenged, setting his glass of iced-tea on the coffee table.

"Now, that's tempting," she giggled as he pulled her into his lap. "But is it a threat, or a promise?"

"Whichever you want it to be," John mumbled, smiling softly and gazing intently at her mouth.

"Mom, can I come out now?"

Knowing John was about to kiss her again, Noah's voice jarred Sharlotte from her dreamy state. She turned to the boy and nodded with a smile, "Yes, I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you the…the…b-body is gone now."

It was still so surreal to her that a man had died in her home—she had trouble even discussing it.

Noah frowned as he sat down in his favorite over-stuffed armchair.

"I feel badly for Jake," he said softly. "I hate that his dad had to die."

"I do too, baby," Sharlotte told him, leaning against John for support. "But his dad…he was trying to hurt me, and he could've hurt John very badly-"

"Sharlotte, don't sugar-coat it," John cut in. "The man was trying to kill you."

"John, don't," she whispered. "Noah doesn't need to hear that-"

"I have eyes, Mom," Noah said softly. "I don't have to be told what he was trying to do. I can see the bruising and cut."

"Noah, it's fine," Sharlotte reassured him. "I know it looks bad, but everything is fine. I'm just thanking God you weren't here when this happened." She turned her gaze on John then, "And I'm thanking God you weren't hurt in that fall down the stairs you took."

"Well, _I'm_ thanking God _you_ weren't hurt any worse than you were," John told her, tightening his arms around her. "I wish I'd gotten here sooner. I was afraid I wouldn't get him off of you in time."

Sharlotte wrapped her arms around his neck and placed an affectionate kiss to his cheek. "But you did," she whispered with a dreamy smile. "You saved my life."

"I had to," John returned, flushing slightly. "I couldn't even _think_ about you being hurt—or something worse."

"Me either," Noah chimed in.

"Well, I'm fine," she reminded them gently. "He can't hurt any of us now. I just hope…"

"What," John prompted, seeing her withdraw into her thoughts. Her face looked sad and he could see tears threatening to well up in her gray eyes.

"I hope he was saved," she said in a soft, sad voice. "His actions make me think otherwise, but it's between him and the Lord."

"You mean…" John started, trying to find the right words. "You worry about someone's salvation, even when they've done something as bad as trying to kill you?"

Sharlotte nodded, "Yes. I don't wish hell on my worst enemy, John. Hell isn't just a dark place full of anguish. It's full of pain—every pain imaginable; physical, mental, emotional. It's not a place anyone wants to go." She could see John's mental gears turning and she knew he was mulling over what she'd said. "Do you want to talk about this some more a little later," she asked softly, not wanting to give him an overload of information to take in all at once. The end result of that would be her pushing John farther from God rather than toward Him. She knew it'd be best to give him a little bit of the Bible at a time, and keep him curious.

"Yeah, I think I do," John admitted.

"I'm glad," she smiled. "So many people tend to make faith and salvation so difficult, and it's actually quite simple."

"Really," John asked. "It seems kind of complex to me. A lot of it's hard to fathom."

"You mean stories in the Bible?"

John nodded, "Yeah. The story of Noah and the ark, God literally speaking to Moses, Jonah and the whale, the parting of the Red Sea…it's just all so…"

"Hard to believe," Sharlotte suggested, a knowing smile on her face.

He chuckled, "Well, yeah. I mean, didn't you find it hard to believe all of that?"

"Yes," she admitted. "When I was a kid, it was actually _easy_ to believe. But as I grew older, my mind had so many questions that I definitely found it hard to believe."

"So, how did you come to believe it? How did you come to know so much?"

"Church," Sharlotte replied. "Along with prayer and studying the Bible. But mostly prayer. That's where I find my faith the most—talking to the Lord and asking him to be with me each and every day, because life is hard enough _with_ Him. It's impossible _without_ Him." She turned his face to meet her gaze and asked softly, "Has anyone ever told you about Jesus—I mean the in-depth details?"

"Yeah, kind of," John answered. "Shawn…Shawn Michaels…" he elaborated, "He tried to a couple times, and I sort of blew it all off."

"Why," Sharlotte asked patiently.

"Because, I wasn't-" He halted his words and glanced over at the CSI team still working on the staircase. Then he glanced over at Noah who was watching him intently. "Can we discuss this later," he asked softly. "I'm not trying to get out of talking about it, because I really do want to learn more. I'd just like to talk when it's just us."

"Of course! I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling badly that she'd put him on the spot in front of strangers and in front of Noah. "I get excited talking about the Gospel and I sometimes don't know when to hush," she said, a blush creeping up her face.

"Don't be sorry," John smiled, and brushed her hair over her shoulder. He let his hand linger affectionately at her neck and then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I'm actually looking forward to hearing more."

She smiled, "Well, that makes me really happy."

"Good," he grinned and hugged her close.

Sharlotte giggled and returned his hug as Noah jumped up from his chair and ran to the DVD rack next to the television. "I know what you can do, Mom," he said excitedly, scanning through their collection of movies. "Why don't we watch this tonight?" He held up a copy of _The_ _Passion of the Christ_.

"That's a great idea," Sharlotte smiled. "But only if John's up to it," she looked at him then, "You probably have to get back to work tomorrow, don't you?" She tried not to sound totally sad because she didn't want him to think she was trying to monopolize his time.

"Yeah, I do," John admitted, "But I'm sure I'd have time to see the movie. I've not seen it before, and I actually heard a lot of good things about it."

"It really helps you visualize what Jesus truly went through for us," Noah chimed in.

John looked at him curiously, "So you're saved too, huh, bud?"

The boy smiled and nodded, "Yes, I am," he said happily. "Since I was seven. Mom told me about Jesus and read to me from the Bible. Then when I was ready, she helped me get saved."

"It's amazing how young a child can be when the Lord speaks to their hearts," Sharlotte explained to John. "I've even heard of four-year-olds falling under conviction and repenting."

"That _is_ amazing," John agreed. Secretly, he was happy that Noah was a Christian. Whether or not _he_ chose to believe, it comforted him to know that his son was sure of his salvation and where he'd spend eternity. And he found himself falling for Sharlotte even more when he heard that she was the one who'd guided his son to salvation.

_It's strange_, he thought to himself. _I never would've even thought of dating a Christian woman because I thought they'd be boring and bland. But Sharlotte is neither. She's passionate, and warm, and just beautiful all the way through. She glows with happiness and something else I can't put my finger on. _

He realized that sex would definitely be a difficulty in their relationship because he'd never thought twice about it with his previous girlfriends. But Sharlotte meant enough to him that he was going to give abstinence his best effort.

"Well, why don't we get out of here," Sharlotte suggested at John's silence. "After what happened, I need a change of scenery."

John grinned, "Sounds good to me." He looked over at Noah then. "You up for a …" He paused, an idea brewing in his head.

"What," Sharlotte asked, confusion wrinkling her forehead.

"I know a great place we can stay at," he answered. "If you guys don't mind a three-hour drive."

"That's not necessary, John," she protested. "I mean, just an affordable hotel room is fine with us."

John grinned, "That's the beauty of it," he said. "It's totally affordable."

"Really," Sharlotte asked. "Where is it?"

"My house."

"For real," she exclaimed. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," John said. "It'll be much more comfortable than a hotel room."

"Yay," Noah exclaimed, jumping out of his chair. Then his face frowned slightly, "But we can't go up and pack. What'll we do for clothes and pajamas?"

"John said he was going to buy us some clothes, and since he won't let me pay him back…" She cut a playful glare at John then. "Don't pick out the most expensive thing you can find, okay," she told Noah, gently tugging on his nose in an affectionate gesture.

"I won't," Noah promised. "Thanks, John!"

"No problem, Noah. And don't listen to your mom. Get whatever you want," he said with a wink as Noah went back into the kitchen. He glanced at Sharlotte and saw stubbornness in her eyes. "Hey, it's my money, so I'll spoil the kid if I want to." With that, he stuck his tongue out at Sharlotte and crossed his eyes.

She busted out laughing, "Only you could look adorable making such a hideous face."

John's dimples appeared as he grinned and pulled her closer to him, "I'm adorable, huh? 'Adorable' how, exactly," he asked, teasingly fishing for a compliment. "Like a puppy, or a baby…or what?"

Sharlotte avoided his gaze as she answered with a shy smile, "Oh, please," she said. "You have to know by now how I see you."

"Maybe," John admitted, "But I'd like to _hear_ it. You need to come out of your shell, Ms. Taylor."

"I _do_ come out of my shell—when I'm on the ice," she defended herself.

"Ah, okay," John smiled mischievously and Sharlotte could clearly see he had a plan in motion.

Sure enough, he spoke up in the next instant.

"Why don't we go skating again," he asked, a definite challenge in his blue eyes. "And you could skate to a song that makes you think of me."

Sharlotte flushed drastically.

_If he only knew how many songs make me think of him, _she thought. _If he only knew _what_ songs make me think of him._

"So," John prompted her. "What do you say?"

"To what," Noah asked as he re-entered the room with a can of soda.

"I want to watch your mom skate again," John said, knowing if he could get Noah in on the discussion, that Sharlotte would have no choice but to go skating.

"Say yes, Mom," Noah said instantly. "I haven't ever gotten to see you skate in person. Plus, I haven't been skating in forever."

Reaching up to Sharlotte's face, John brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, sending a shiver of delight through her body. "Say yes," he urged. "Heaven help me, when I watch you skate…you're absolutely breathtaking, Sharlotte Taylor." She gasped ever so slightly, and John smiled at her reaction. "I'd really love to watch you one more time before I have to leave you again."

"O-okay," Sharlotte relented with a smile. "I can't seem to say no to you."

"Hmmm… I'll have to remember that," John teased. "You can't say no to me… Mental note is filed away."

"Just keep any questions or requests PG-rated, Mister."

"Will do."

"So can we go," Noah chimed in. "I mean, we can't pack, so what's stopping us?"

"You're right," John said. "Let's hit the road. First stop is shopping. Then we'll get some lunch and then head to the skating rink."

They all stood to their feet and after Sharlotte grabbed her purse and left instructions with the CSI team to lock up before they left. The three walked out the door intent on clearing their heads of the bad events of the day.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So sorry that it took so long to get this chapter posted, and also sorry it's a tad on the short side. The next chapter should make up for it however. ;)

Also, I'm battling my anxiety again (I've posted about this at my wattpad page) so updates may slow up for a while. I'll just have to see. I can't set an exact time frame (such as once a week, month, etc.). It'll just have to happen when it happens. Hope you all understand. Thanks so much for your feedback and support of this story! I appreciate it so much!

Hope this chapter was enjoyed! Will post more as soon as I'm able.


End file.
